Summer's Breath
by Percephone
Summary: COMPLETED! The summer between sixth and seventh year, James Potter finds himself spending his entire vacation with Lily Evans. To both their amazements, they find that, well, when it comes down to it, the other ain't all tha' bad...Please R
1. 01 The Horse

Author's Note: This is my first ever fan fic. At least, the first I've posted, so bear with me as I attempt to get accustomed and comfortable with this entire process! 

Disclaimer: Sadly, I must inform you that I did not invent anyof the characters you are familiar with, and that they belong to that wonderful genius, JK Rowling, whose imagination conjured the realm of Harry Potter.

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**Chapter 1 - The Horse**

"So, then, you'll be back when?" a tousled black haired boy stood on a platform surrounded by students anxiously scrambling around, trying desperately to find their parents. Amidst the screaming, pushing, and last minute farewells, he and three other boys had managed to secure a spot straight out of the Hogwarts Express last door. The boy pushed his round glasses up his long nose.

"Around mid-August," replied the other dark haired boy, although his tresses were not as wild as the boy whom he was addressing.

"So everything's settled then. Prongs and Wormtail go home, Padfoot's coming with me for almost all the holidays. We'll check in every third, tenth, eighteenth and twenty-seventh of July and August. Sirius and I will then come back and everyone meets up at Prongs' house on the twenty six. Got that Wormtail?" The sandy-haired boy spoke deliberately to ensure each person involved's full comprehension of their foolproof plan on how to spend the summer in the most productive form.

"Yeah, sure – third, tenth, eighteenth and twenty-seventh we mirror each other, and we're at James' for the twenty sixth of August. Got it." The bubbly blond boy's cheeks flushed. _Or was it the fourth…_

"Right," said the first black haired boy the group referred to as Prongs as he pushed his sliding glasses back up his nose as he lowered himself to pick up his trunk, "I best be going. Mum's over there and she's about to spot me." He passed a hand through his hair and slapped the other dark-haired boy on the back. "Have fun mates, will see ya soon enough!" He called behind him as he trudged his way along to his mother.

"James, honey! I didn't see you coming! Was worried sick about you!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her lanky arms around her son. "Thought you'd missed the train or something."

"Mum," James leaned over and hugged her awkwardly, nervous that he'd hear his mates cat calling. "How have you been?" He smiled as he pulled a lock of white hair away from her chocolate brown eyes. He heard something of a ruckus behind him and thought to make nothing of it, until his mother's eyes grew wide in astonishment and fury. He turned to look at what his mother was staring at.

"I can't believe I'm stuck putting up with your abnormal self now. Ughhh! I swear if that woman wouldn't have died, I would have killed her myself!" A long necked, blond, and explicitly ugly (horse-like) woman was screaming at Evans, the red head he never left alone. "At least it's only for one year. Although I am considering – "

"How DARE you speak to her like that! You ought to be ashamed of yourself." James stomach dropped as he realised his mother was no longer behind him but rather stomping towards Evans and the horse – err – woman.

"Mum!" he made after her, though knew better than to interrupt when she was lecturing.

"Excuse me, did I address you? No, now please, allow yourself to take your – erm – freakish self back to your own business." _Wrong,_ James thought, _you're dead. Dead._

Mrs Potter threw her arms angrily into her long emerald robes and drew her wand out, pointing it into the girl's face. "Mum, put it down," James called out to her as the horse faced woman screeched and hid behind Evans.

"James, take that young woman's luggage and bring it to the portkey." She spoke without flinching her glare at that ugly woman. "YOU," she spat, "best apologize to me and this young lady for being such a miserable Muggle," The woman made no move, hardly breathed. The fury in the old lady's eyes turned into sympathy as she replaced her wand into her robe pockets and extended a wobbly arm (which hadn't been so wobbly when pointed at the rude woman) around the green eyed, somewhat surprised Evans. "I'll take your silence as an apology, now, please," she ushered Evans towards the place James had piled up his and Evans' trunks and was now sitting quietly on them, "tell me dear, what is your name?"

"That's Lily Evans, Mum." James sighed. His mother glared at him, forcing him to retreat his eyes to the ground. He feigned attention on a passing ant.

"Lily Evans. Well I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Gwendolyn Potter, James' mom."

"P-Pleased to meet you Mrs Potter, but you really shouldn't have – "

"Nonsense, Lily. Now, who was that horrid person?" James sighed as the ant disappeared into its ant hole. _I wish I had a hole to stick my head into and disappear,_ he thought.

"Petunia, my sister. I'm staying with her this summer, which I – "

"Nonsense. You'll stay with James and I. We have this immense house with no one to share it with. We'll be honoured to have you spend the summer with us," she spoke over James' choking. "Honey, the portkey," James handed the object over without needing to be told twice.

"Mrs Potter, honestly," Lily began, but was cut off by one of those looks that came from the short, albeit very feisty Mrs Potter.

James stood, handing one of Lily's trunks back over to the girl, and whispered, "You'll learn soon enough that there's no point in arguing with her." He smiled weakly at her. With that, the threesome, an odd look plastered on the younger two members, extended their arms and each touched the shiny brass key James held out. With a sickening pull at their stomachs, they disappeared from platform nine-and-three-quarters.

"Did Evans just go home with Prongs?" asked the one named Padfoot.

"Yes," replied the frail Moony in a very amused-yet-confused manner.

"Hmm, thought so," shrugged the dark haired boy casually.


	2. 02 Tragic Hero

Author's Note: Yay! I can't express how happy I was when I discovered that people had actually read my story! Yay! (Yes, yes, I am an ammature!) And thanks be to you NJ MacReiley the Helpless Romantic, who reviewed. I'm glad you liked it! Now, this chapter's a bit of a depressing one. I don't know why, I think I've been reading lots of fics where James is a bit sad and it influenced the severity of his depressive state in this chapter. But, I'll also have you know, that it's not strictly by influence. It's actually going to come in handy as the relationship between him and Lily develop (because, as you know, there will be something there eventually). Now, onto the

Disclaimer: No matter how badly I wish for it, I do not own the characters created by the one and only JK Rowling. That is, James Potter and Lily Evans. However, theMr and Mrs Potter represented here are in fact, a part of my imagination.

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**Chapter 2 - Tragic Hero**

James Potter, his mother, and Lily Evans appeared somewhere on a hill in very close proximity to a mansion…wait, no, it was actually large enough to be considered a manor, or some sort of small castle. It was quite the site, actually. Large, elegant black gates blocked off entry to the curvy roadway which led to and separated into two at a fountain of (although from the hill no one could tell) two enormous human forelimbs reaching out to one another, fingertips resting lightly together, crystal clear water pouring from every which side. (Had it been a normal Muggle fountain, one could explain that the water was there to cover up the stems that connected the hands to the ground, but, as it was actually a very talented wizard artist who had carved this masterpiece, there was no connecting stem, and the hands were, in all actuality, hovering above a pool of water.) To Mrs Potter, it represented the love between her late husband and herself, as it had been a late wedding present from Edgar's older brother, Henrich. To Lily, it was a display of two people reaching out in dire need of help and acceptance (yes, her opinion of everything was somewhat affected by the current war between pure borns and well, Muggle borns like her). To James, it reminded him of the time Sirius had come over and had dared James to, aherm, relieve himself in the fountain. James never did manage to completely relieve himself, being scared out of his wits that his father would catch him, and ever since that night, he had never dipped his toes in the small pool.

The edifice in itself was quite the sight, towering high above, spanning out for quite a long while. It was made of stone, little family emblems etched into the sides of the house. It was all beautiful, especially with the greenest grass you'd ever seen making up the grounds. What attracted James' eyes the most, however, were the trees that surrounded his home.

Mrs Potter observed the look on her son's face then looked towards his red haired fellow student. "Come along now, kids, we don't want to be stand here staring at our home. James?" The tall boy nodded and, without instructions to do so, took out his wand, pointing it at the trunks and hexing them so that they would follow the three down the hill and into the house – err – small castle. "I hope you two don't mind, but I think I'll just apparate on ahead. Bad hips," she explained with a soft smile and a twinkle in her eyes that betrayed her to reveal her very real pain. With a crack! She was gone.

"Your mother is very interesting, Potter."

"Glad you hold her in such high esteem," he replied nonchalantly as he stuck his hands inside his pockets.

"Is she always like that?" she asked, her tone softer than it had been moments before. If James wasn't mistaken, he could have sworn that she was attempting to start up a conversation.

He smiled, "Yeah," he trailed off, engrossed in his own thoughts and impression of his mother. Short, feisty, happy…lonely. A complex woman, she was, but beyond her tireless trying to mask her pain away from her son (whom he knew she pitied) in order to protect him from the inevitable truth of it all, she was still a proud, loving, caring mother. Despite her quick temper.

Once they'd come past the gates (upon which James had muttered a password to the black lion joining the two doors together), he led her to the front door, opening it ahead of her. "Ladies first," he said. He had decided that this summer he would act in a civil way towards Lily. She was, after all, a guest at his house.

"Thanks," she hissed and walked through.

James watched Lily's face carefully, daring her to show any reaction to the grandeur of his home. He smiled as her eyes took in the intricacies of the patterns integrated in the marble floor, of the mahogany banister, the way the curtains matched every item in any given room without attacking the eyes with too much red, purple, green or blue. For a moment, James straightened his shoulders proudly, loving his father for having spent so much time going over every irrelevant detail of the house, assuring that each room had a theme, and that each floor would also have an overall theme, and that the themes of the rooms supported the themes of the floors, which reinforced the family motto: _Familia_ _Primoris_. Then, the thought of his father made his shoulders slump, his eyes grow sombre, and his mind go blank.

"Potter!" he jumped at being abruptly interrupted from his sulking. "Your house is…unbelievable! I always knew you were, well, rich, but this…You must be like royalty or something!"

He shrugged. "It's nothing, really," his voice was glum. "My mum's in the kitchens. Perhaps you should join her – just follow the burgundy rug." He left in silence, trunks still following him in the air, and trudged up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Lily asked. James figured she was a tad frightened of his mother. Heck, who wouldn't be. And it's not as though it was polite to leave a stranger struggle her way into the depths of his home, but he needed to be alone. He needed time to sulk, to pity himself, to reminisce about the past before he would be able to enjoy his summer vacation. Apologetically smiling at the red head, he turned and continued on his way.

James remained quiet for the next few days. He hated that, despite all he knew, he still couldn't understand it all. Not that he blamed himself, and, yes, he knew his father loved him but, there was just something haunting about the way he'd died.

_James had come home from a late night flight over the family estate. He'd do this occasionally when the pressures of reality kept him from breathing smoothly. It was on his broom, over the trees basking in the moonlight that James would always ask himself what was troubling him and work all his thoughts out until he felt the weight of it lift off his shoulders. It was this year that he had figured out he was in denial about Lily Evans…_

_The main source of his worry, however, had come from his father. Ah, Edgar Potter was a loving, appraising father, having never missed a Quidditch match James had participated in, always buying the best presents, always saying the right things to get the desired reaction out of his only son. James, despite all this, still felt that there was something awkward about his relationship with his parents._

_Not that he was ever ill-treated, au contraire! His parents almost worshipped the ground he walked on, spoiling their "little miracle" with all the attention in the world. They had been retired by the time he had been born and thus had been able to spend every waking moment with him. This, James hadn't minded one bit. Actually, nothing about his parents or the way his family was a rubbed him the wrong way up until he'd reached adolescence. _

_It was something about how their hair could no longer be considered as grey, but rather a shocking, blinding white. It was the way they could never keep up with James' energy (unless you got one of them angry, namely, his mother), which came in never-ending supply. There was something about when both had been diagnosed with some sort of wizarding disease that happens to really old magic folk – something about uncontrolled magic attacking the wielder… all James knew was that his mother and father were dying, and it would only be a matter of time…_

_That night, James had flewn back home using his extra energy to climb up the side of the Manor, up into his father's window. He had initially wanted to surprise his dad, play a little joke on him by scaring the wits out of him. Whispering a spell that enabled him to open the window, James had stepped through, walking in on his mother and father sharing a very personal and intimate conversation. James, being himself, decided this was the best time for him to spy on them. Luckily, he had been wearing his invisibility cloak that evening._

_Curious as ever, James had come as close as possible to their bed without being noticed, sat in a corner facing the couple, and listened._

"_He'll need you," his father's voice had been heavy with pain, enough to make his young son flinch. It had been a major slap in the face for him as both parents had always ensured to act strong around him. Their precious boy didn't deserve to witness the pain they were faced with on a daily basis._

"_But he also needs you, Edgar, just as I do. We both need you."_

"_Gwendolyn, don't make this harder than it had to be, I – " _

"_Snuff it, Ed!" James had actually smirked at his mother's outburst as "snuff it" was actually something Lily (whom he had just admitted to himself he may or may-not have a secret cruch on) often directed to him. "How easy do you honestly think it is to be losing the one you've loved, known, and lived with for over one hundred and thirty years?"_

_Those words had sent arrows straight through James' chest, sending a deep jolt of pain into his heart. His parents had married straight out of Hogwarts, however, both had decided that, until they had accomplished all they'd wish for as far as careers went, they would not have children. Four years after Gwendolyn's retirement, the Potters had – miraculously – conceived a child. Not without, of course, the aid of countless magical fertility spells, potions and charms. _

"_As difficult as it will be for me. But at least you'll have James," he had smiled upon saying his name. A proud, strong smile. That smile was officially etched into James' memory for the rest of his life. He had felt somehow that much more connected to his father, that even when James wasn't in the room, he would continue to speak highly of him. "You are his mother, Gwendolyn – "_

"_And you, his father." She cut in abruptly._

_With that same smile, Edgar Potter nodded. "Yes, yes I am," he had replied, his voice thick with such admiration that it could be considered as borderline obsession. "But he will have his mother when I've left."_

_It was then James had understood, although not consciously (for it took a few years to admit to himself) that his father had accelerated the arrival of his death. Not quite suicide, but close enough to it. Hidden beneath his cloak, James had been sure his stomach had flipped inside out. He was also convinced that his evening meal was slowly crawling up his oesophagus. But he couldn't leave. He had to hear the rest._

"_Edgar," his mother had pleaded, eyes shiny with tears, "I don't know if I can be strong enough for him. Who will be his father figure? Who will teach him how to behave on dates? Who will - "_

"_We both know you're strong enough to handle all that. Besides, if I remember correctly, you were the one who taught me how to behave myself…on dates." A joke. His father had made a joke (conjuring a somewhat disturbing imagery in the mind of his fourteen year old) in the midst of a very serious, very important conversation. Well, at least now he knew where he had gotten that from. _

_Frail and sick, Mr Potter had chuckled to himself._

_A comfortable silence passed now, Mr Potter stroking his wife's hair, mumbling secret nothings into her ear, kissing her forehead, her aged hands. They were comfortable with each other, after over a century of living together. It had really blown James' mind that they could lay there, in each other's arms, and not have a single thing to argue about. That was a defining moment in James' life, for it was the moment he had decided that he too, would marry early and spend the rest of his days like they were right now, completely at ease in each other's company, love filling in the void of silence._

"_When can I meet you?" Mrs Potter had apparently given in. James' mouth had gone dry._

"_Whenever you feel James is ready to bid you farewell," the old man now wrapped his arms protectively around his wife and she snuggled her head into his chest. His deep breaths made her head go up and down, and James had convinced himself that, as long as his mother's head moves, then his father is still here. _

"_We'll miss you terribly," she cried softly, letting a few tears fall out of the corner of her eyes, forming a small puddle at the center of Mr Potter's shirt._

_He kissed her white hair gently. "As will I." With that, James could no longer see his mother's head lifting up and dropping steadily down anymore. Letting the lump in his throat get the best of him, he lifted his cloak off and walked to the empty side of the bed, where he had crawled in and laid his head on his father's shoulder, stroking his mother's back. She would no longer need to be strong, he had decided. He would be strong for both of them._

Four days later, James found himself sitting on the counter of his kitchen (and if his mother would have seen him, he wouldn't have lived through the evening), immersed in deep thought. "Care to share what's troubling you, Potter?" came that familiar voice who belonged to that person he had forgotten was living there. For the summer.

Startled, he turned her way, not really sure whether she expected a genuine answer.

"Come off it, Potter, you've been sulking ever since we got here. Now, tell me, what are you thinking of?" The concern in her voice gave it away. She really expected him to tell her what was on his mind.

"Care for a walk?" he asked in return. Lily Evans smiled sweetly, glad that it had not needed to break out into a full fledged argument. Taking this as a 'yes', James jumped quietly off the counter, placed his hand on her lower back and led her out of the back door, heading for his secret spot in the surrounding forest.

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So that's it for chapter 2. It's a bit longer than chapter 1, which I apologize for. In my mind, when I was thinking about it, Ch. 1 was actually super long, but it turns out, nope! 

I've already been working on Chapter 3 (sitting in my air conditioned room with a tuque and scarf as I am sick and not wanting to get sick again, I am wearing winter clothes!) and so, for those who are interested, it's a lovely little talk between the two main characters.


	3. 03 Small Talk

_Author's note_: Wow, I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that people are not only taking the time out of their lives to read my story, but that they are also taking more time to review. I appreciate it so much, as it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! (No joke!) Now, I realise that this story is a bit dull so far in the action department, but that is soon to come (you'll know what I mean when you reach the end of this chapter). I just had to write these three chapters this way fist so that you could see the way James is. Now I'm wondering whether I should switch to Lily's POV? Hmm, we'll see.

_Disclaimer: _I'd love to own the world of Harry Potter, but alas, I do not.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3 - Small Talk**

Immediately after having reached the official (made official by Messrs Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs) OoESL – Out of Ear Shot Line – a while after the tree line, James began to slow his pace. Once they got to the third willow, he began to talk.

"Evans, I want to apologize for something." When he said it, he wasn't actually sure what he would apologize for. He just felt it appropriate to say.

She nodded her head. "Don't need to ask for permission, Potter, I won't hurt you, badly anyways, as I'm not yet of age."

_Neither am I, but the ministry doesn't know it's me doing the spells and not Mum._ He smiled at his private joke. Well, rule, no better, law breaking. "Fine then. Evans," what was he apologizing for again? Oh yes, "I'm sorry for having neglected you over the past few days. Whilst it was my mother who officially invited you to stay, I am, by association of proximity of birthdates, officially your host." He pulled a branch up high, using his free arm to motion Lily forward, muttering something along the lines of, "after you, sweet lady."

"Thank you." Cold. Expressionless. So like Lily Evans.

Continuing on with his apology, James led her deeper into the woods. "I am unsure whether you are aware of this, but coming home has a certain affect on me. I get real quiet and I guess different than what you are used to." _And depressive, and lonely, and spontaneously loud. Ahh, I get weird._

"I've noticed. How long ago did your father pass away, anyway?" James stopped momentarily. He was slightly startled at the directness of the question, then remembered that Lily hadn't exactly been the type to run around the bush. Actually, she had always been quite blunt.

"Between fourth and fifth," he surprised himself by answering without rounding on her. Then, not sure what made him do it, words flew out of his mouth. "When did yours?" He knew the answer, and knew she knew he knew it too, but he had been compelled to ask, sort of as a way to tell her how much it had hurt to have her ask the same question. _Stupid revenge,_ he thought as he saw the look on her face and immediately wished he could have a time turner to take back what he'd said.

"This year. Both parents, actually. My father died of cancer in late September, my mother of an aneurism in March." Her eyes were downcast, sombre, yet dry.

He swallowed back his guilt. "Sorry," he said for the second time this day, running a hand through the back of his hair, then stuffing his hands quickly inside of his trouser pockets. _Twit,_ he told himself. "My dad died of m – mul, no wait, it's… Actually, I don't know what it's called. All I know is that it's a disease old wizards and witches get, and eventually die of. My mom's got it too, though she doesn't show it." He added hastily and released a sigh.

"How old is your mom, Potter?" They had, by now, reached his 'secret' place, where there was a slight clearing in the trees. James had dug up a ground-chair (a hole in the ground where a bum would fit comfortably, and a mound of either softly packed dirt rising as a back rest) when he had first found this spot, and over time, as he grew, so had the hole. Lily now occupied it, her derriere being slightly smaller than James', had quite a lot of room to spare. James took up the rolled over log, resting it on a fallen tree, leaning on it for support. In the background, a soft rustle of leaves could be heard as a slight breeze swayed the branches, and then there was the faint sound of flowing water coming from a creek a few minutes' walk away.

He wanted to reply something cheeky, something along the lines of "Isn't it considered rude to ask for a lady's age?" but thought better of it. The verdict was drawn by the look on Lily's face. She seemed to be taking this conversation especially seriously, and why shouldn't she? Wasn't it, after all, the first civil conversation they had had in their entire lives? "I'm not really sure," he spoke gently. Thinking a while, he continued. "I'm not all that sure she knows herself, but she's got to be around one hundred and forty-five. Something like that."

Lily's emerald eyes shot open. He knew she'd react like this. He had, after all, spent the last two years studying her reaction to many a things. "What?"

Nervously, James chuckled, trying to hide that deep inside, he'd wish he could say his mother was more around the age of forty five. Something seemed much more pleasant in having a mother young enough to enjoy things he did. Snapping out of his thoughts, he spoke again, this time, really surprising his companion. "You are actually the first to know. Sirius thinks she's around eighty, and Remus and Peter, they are convinced she's sixty."

Tucking a loose strand of crimson hair behind her ear, Lily's eyes took on that glossy look that happened whenever she'd throw herself into her thoughts. "It makes perfect sense," she spoke at last, saving James from having to resort to his own thoughts as company. "You're spoilt rotten, and it shows in the way you expect everything from everyone. And obviously, you were your mommy's little baby that was sent from heaven, and so you got all the attention in the world. It makes sense, actually, for your parents to be so old."

James smiled inwardly at her quick thinking, but frowned playfully at her insults. "Watch what you say to your host!" She blushed slightly. "But you're right, I was their miracle child and, naturally, they've always treated me as such." _Such a James Potter response, _he thought to himself, _real smooth. Ha._

The silence that followed was – uncomfortable, to say the least. James watched as Lily watched him watch her from the corner of her eyes, and wondered why it was that she was always compelled to act vehemently angry towards him whenever he spoke. Even now, here on the Potter estate, the gleam in her green eyes never wavered. James secretly called it the Gleam of Death, for he was sure that if he pushed her too hard, her eyes would convince her hands to strangle him to death. And then, there was her voice. Around her friends, she spoke in different volumes, different tones, but with him it was always flat, angry, low, crisp (unless, of course, she was screaming). Even her posture was set in defensive/offensive mode.

There was something about that tension, something about the unease that made its perpetual existence both annoying and seem slightly forced or manufactured. To him, their tireless outbursts at each other, her constant abomination of his character or personality, his relentless attempts to con her into giving him a try even though he knows perfectly well that these aggravate her even more, all of these seemed very futile at this moment. Not to mention, juvenile.

Unable to stand that _thing_ that bothered him about their silence, James finally spoke up. "Did you ever notice," his voice had made her visibly jump and, choking back a chuckle, he timidly continued, "how difficult it is to sit in complete silence whilst in the company of someone you feign disinterest in? All the while, you believe that silence is better than the uncomfortably and despondent exchange of words that would inevitably turn into an insalubrious slur of dialectic diarrhoea…" He eyed her with an expectant look, inviting her into his game of vocabulary showcase. On her part, she seemed impressed by his sudden launch into an attempt at another civil conversation.

"Yes." Silence. "What, pray tell o verbose one, madeth you believe that aforementioned disinterest is feigned?" She glared ahead as though speaking to the oak tree, tucking a that same lock of thick red hair behind her ear.

Glad and relieved that she had actually accepted his invitation, James continued, desperate to hold on to her attention, to impress her, and to make her see that this young boy was more than what he seemed. He cleared his throat. "I cannot pretend that my excessive arguing with you has not been a direct result of your publicly humiliating me at the end of our fifth year." He grabbed a twig that was lying on the ground beside his feet. _She was not supposed to know that_, he said to himself.

"Please, Potter, you've been turned down before in front of a crowd, if not by anyone else, I do distinctly recall four failed feeble attempts throughout fifth year to get me to date you. I believe I said 'no' each time!" She was now staring at him, that look in her eyes that not only made him feel inferior, but as though he should be ashamed of said inferiority. In four words: he hated that look. No. Better than that. He loathed it!

"It's not only that, Lily. Rejection, I can take. Public humiliation, I suppose, but…I…it's…"

"Go on," she pressed, her voice rising an octave. Her arms were folded across her chest, her eyes burning the side of his face.

"I don't really expect you to understand," he said shyly, and then, looking into her eyes, matching her set gaze, he continued. "But I do expect that you will respect the confidential nature of what you are about to hear." He glanced at his hand, where the twig he had been twirling had snapped unexpectedly. _Oops, didn't know I did that!_ Not bothering to slide his slipping glasses back up his nose, he looked back at her. She nodded, a slight nod of the head, sending that lock of hair back across her face. As she delicately tucked it back behind her ear, James Potter summoned all the courage no sixteen year old boy had ever yet matched and resumed his explanation.

"I've – and don't get mad at this – but I've sort of made a habit out of watching, or rather, observing you. And, no, I'm not talking strictly your physical appearance," _although I have spent quite a bit of time with that,_ "but more or less everything about you. Like, for example, who you associate with, what makes you tick, and then my favourite of all: what kind of chap is Lily Evans interested in?" He caught a glimpse of a twitch of her lip, threatening to either curl into a smile, or the other way and turn itself into a frown. He raised an eyebrow at her, drew a deep breath and continued, neglecting the little voice in his head saying _stop there! STOP THERE! _"Well, I've noticed that you usually date guys that are, oddly enough, similar to me. Tall, dark haired, witty, charming, funny and all of that, and I've always wondered and wanted to know why you pick them rather than me." That voice that had screamed at him before now filled a bit of the silence with the words _because you're a bullying toe-frog, you nincompoop. _When Lily made no move to suggest she would answer, and the silence was not only making James nervous enough to have pushed his glasses up four time, ran his hand through his hair twice, and pieced a hole through his skin while chewing his lower lip, he added a very hopeful, "Well?"

He watched as she took a hesitant breath, all the while clinging on to the belief that he hadn't said anything wrong. She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together so that they disappeared, and shook her head gently. "Potter," she laughed a sort of forced- pitiful-evil-mocking laugh, "I know that was meant to be sweet, but again you have managed to come off as conceited which, I guess you could say is one of the reasons why I've never taken an interest in you. Another is that you are far too immature. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen you serious before today! And then, there's also the fact that you are really inconsiderate of others. It's always about James Potter with you. Or Sirius, or Remus, or Peter even. It's always about what you want, never about others!"

She was, by this point, as furious as James was used to seeing her. The Gleam of Death had now migrated from her eye and swallowed her entire face, and the boy was sure that, had he been sitting nearer to her, the red haired witch would have shoved a twig up his nose. Or something evil like that. Why was it that he always made her mad no matter what he did or didn't do? Why couldn't he, just for once, have her calm, or cheerful, heck he'd even take sad over mad.

Knowing this bit of information, James chose not to egg her on and remain silent. _Think of something,_ he repeated over and over until he realised that dawn had come and gone and his stomach was growling. Lily fidgeted slightly, looking a bit more than highly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," he whispered at long last for the third time that day.

"Yeah, it's alright Potter. I'm not mad anymore." _Well good!_ He thought. It had never taken this short amount of time to have her draw back her anger.

Playing it cool, James shrugged his shoulders, slowly getting up and wiping dust from his trousers. He offered his hand to Lily, "We should get back," he said as she accepted his hand and he pulled her up, all the while focusing on the fact that Lily had taken his help. She had let him take her hand in his, even if only briefly. She let him –

"JAMES!" He looked down, startled at her shriek, and saw what she had her eye on. To his dismay, he realised that, in all his excitement, he had clutched on to her hand and refused to let go.

"Sorry," he dropped her hand, sending h is to the bottom of his pockets. _Four times sorry today, it's gotta be a record or something,_ he secretly cursed himself for being such a git. And then he cleared his thoughts. It seemed that, today, thinking had gotten him into trouble more than anything.

As they neared the official OoESL once more (silently, as always), Lily, (who was leading the way upon James' insistence) stopped and turned to face him. "Look," she started and he knew she meant business. James knew that it was common knowledge that, when a woman starts her sentence with the word 'look' it meant that she was expecting the other's full attention and cooperation. James directed said attention to her lips, so that if his ears missed anything, he'd still be able to read what she'd say. "Let's just pretend that what happened at school stays there, and we'll keep all that separate from what goes on here." His smile probably encouraged her to go on. "I've always been judgemental of you, Potter, and I've just realised that what I'm doing to you is exactly what I resent from my…from you. And so, er, what I…I guess that, well, as I'm staying here for the summer, it will be most beneficial to the entire household if we just," she pondered a for only half a second here, but James kept looking at her lips, intent on picking up any movement. And he noticed that, when in deep thought, Lily pressed her lips together really hard. "forgot about Hogwarts and concentrated on what to do with this weather." She had finished talking. He remained silent though, as he wasn't really sure if she was really done talking or if it was just him wishing that she had finished as his eyes were starting to water from the lack of blinking. She looked impatient, suddenly, and she folder her arms across her chest. "Well?"

"Yeah, sure, I – I agree." She seemed satisfied with his lame answer.

He didn't know why, but something about what Lily had suggested had suddenly inspired him to confess to her how he was secretly ecstatic that they'd share a few weeks together away from it all, and how he could not only wait to get to know her on a more friendly level, but also how anxious he was to finally have her take the time to acquaint herself with him. And he was going to tell her, he was ready to, honestly. Only his mother's piercing scream made him forget, and he ran straight for the back door.


	4. 04 Meddling

_Author's note:_ 2 updates in a day! Yay! (Yes, someone had nothing to do today...sigh) This chapter didn't end up quite the way I had originally planned for it to, although about half way through it I decided where it was I wanted to head with it. And I believe I accomplished that, although I wanted to add more. But I was thinking let's not overplay the moment. I also decided that I'm not going to do it in Lily's POV simply because I want James' opinion of her to show through, and not her opinion of the world around her. Ok, that was a lame description of what I want to do, but hopefully the writing will get it across!

_Disclaimer:_ Harry Potter is not owned by Percephone. If you are looking for the master, try JK Rowling.

NJ MacReiley - Thank you, you Helpless Romantic. Really trying my best to give Lily a dimension. Hope you are happy with this update!

Nora17- Your review was lovely. I loved your "...this one's actually great!" It made me laugh. And blush. So thanks! You made me feel all special.

xcfsdafasf - Glad you enjoy!

Lia Mac'Kuttler - I like that Mrs Potter reminded you of someone close. Does she still remind you of her now?

Doomonastick - Thanks. I am working...working on seeing whether or not this will remain a short story or actually become one of those 60 chapter stories (haha not!)

To all who read but don't review - Thanks for reading. Should you ever feel slightly compelled to write a review, know that I will gladly read it and respond.

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**Chapter 4 - Meddling**

He could only remember one other time he had ever run so fast, and then, he was convinced that he had actually outrun that time. _Snape, such a fool to believe Sirius…Who in the world trusts their sworn enemies anyway? _All thoughts of the incident James and company referred to as "The Incident" were thrust from his mind as his legs carried him through the back door, through the kitchen, the dinning room, into the hall only the house elves used, up into that secret passageway his mother was convinced he knew nothing about, up the stairs hidden behind the large portrait of some modern art (which, despite looking like a paint bucket had been dumped over a large canvas, actually suited the secretive feel of this corner of the house), down to the other end of the long corridor and in through the large oak doors of his mother's bedroom. She was there, mouth agape in silent agony, rolling on the floor.

"MUM!" it escaped his lips before he had time to think about speaking. He found himself kneeling beside her, placing his hand in her withered grasp, using his free hand to stroke her forehead. She had done things like this before, rolled off her bed onto the plush purple carpet, rolling on the floor unaware of his presence. The pain she'd feel at times like these were enough to not only blind her, but to cut off any other senses she may have, for afterwards, she would always fall asleep and James would place her back between her blankets, smoothing out the crinkles that showed any trace of a struggle, and she would wake up the next day oblivious that James had indeed witnessed her episodes. She made as though there was no pain, no hurt the next day, as though she was still his cheerful, strong mother instead of the emaciating, frail, insecure old witch she had actually transformed into since the appearance of her sickness. Of course, being the perfect son his mother professed him to be, he also ignored what he knew, casually stuffing it into the far reaches of his mind, unbeknownst to him at this time that it was actually slowly creeping, seeping into his veins, turning him into an introverted, worry-stricken young adolescent whose natural personality would actually have him be extroverted, carefree, mischievous, as he was at school.

His mother zapped him. She never meant to, as her magic was a bit out of hand at this point (which is also why she refrained from performing any spells whenever James was around, even if it meant he was breaking the law. Besides, she still had a strong influence over the Ministry's minions and James had been regarded as "of age" ever since his father had died). The young Potter quickly drew his hand out of hers, slightly backing away as he made himself comfortable sitting on his behind. He gathered his knees with his arms, letting his hands hang loosely clasped together over top of his knees.

"Is she going to be alright?" James jumped. He'd forgotten about Lily. Well, not really, he had just not expected her to be able to keep up with him. _Note to self: you underestimate Lily._ He felt a bit guilty for having done so, but, seeing as how her breathing was still untameable, he realised that she had just gotten there.

James nodded slightly as she sat down next to him, with his eyes still on his mother, ensuring that her head was far away from anything that may harm it, and that anything that may cause her harm was carefully locked away. He had had the idea of placing everything remotely dangerous (like sharp pointy statuettes and whatnot) in a locked cupboard as one time, his mother's magic had nearly stabbed his baby toe. He was snapped out of his trance when he heard Lily's breathing slow, but it wasn't that that had caught his attention, it was her snuffling.

"You're crying," he said. _Obviously she's crying, fool!_ "She's alright, you know, she'll get through it. She's done this loads of times – " Something about what he said made her cry even more. Inwardly James cursed himself for having thought, merely minutes beforehand, that he preferred a sad Lily to an angry Lily. But now that he had no clue as to why she was crying, and he had no clue as to how to comfort her (his feeble attempts had proven to draw more sobs from her), he concluded that he preferred a smiling, laughing Lily and a calm Lily, then an angry Lily, and a sad Lily came in last place. Way last place.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a few moments of soundless cries, during which Gwendolyn's mouth sporadically moved up and down, her eyes tightly shut, and her chest heaving under the pressures of gravity. "It's just, this is exactly how I pictured my mom's death, her slipping off her bed in the dead of the night to be found later the next morning by my sister." James had officially never felt more uncomfortable in his life. What was it she expected him to respond to that? He searched his mind, every dark corner for anything, and when nothing came of his query, he cursed girls for making the oddest comments at the most weirdest times, causing the boys who sat beside them to sweat for fear of not being able to live up to their twisted expectations.

Instinctively, throwing his caution to the wind, James reached out with his far hand and placed her head on his shoulders, meanwhile wrapping his right arm around her shoulders, rubbing them gently as she buried her head in his shoulder. Had it been any other time, he would have laughed at this sight. But the seriousness of it all had abruptly cut off any sign of amusement. He sighed. Lily cried some more, but she had closed her eyes and seemed able to face whatever inner demons she had surfacing. He finally took his mother's hand, confident that she was sleeping now, and not in her trance, and pondered the situation. He felt much calmer than he had before, much more comfortable despite the fact that his mother was passed out on the floor and that Lily Evans was silently weeping on his shirt. He was neither anxious, frightened, nor worried. Somehow, he felt that something had lifted off his shoulders, not an entire responsibility, but his duty to keep these regular occurrences (minus the Lily crying thing) completely his own. He found comfort in comforting Lily (_Does that makes sense?_) and in his peaceful mother.

A while passed before James realised any time had gone by at all, and it was only the threat of growling his stomach posed that had lifted him from his reverie. Lily had stopped crying, though her eyes were still red and puffy, her nose still looked as though a river might flow from it, and dried tears plastered her face, yet despite all this, she looked…soothed. Slowly, she raised her head from James' shoulder and looked at him, though she avoided his eyes. "Are you hungry?" he asked. She looked about ready to say no, but something (the growling of his stomach, perhaps?) changed her mind and she nodded. Taking his cue, James untangled his mother from the heap of covers of her bed, placed them back on her king sized mattress, leaving one side of the blankets folded to allow room for him to slip his mother in. Picking her up from the rug, he laid her softly in her place, covering her with the blankets, once again smoothing out the crinkles. He looked down at her white hair, the wrinkles on her forehead, the lines at the corner of her eyes that became much more prominent when she smiled, her thinning lips, and realised for the first time that his mother looked so much happier when sleeping. He figured it was her dream, but something about the peacefulness of her face made her look much more genuine than her smiles she directed at him whenever he spoke to her, hugged her, or just walked into the room.

Lily stood, obviously waiting for him to stop staring at his mother. He complied with her silent wishes, and together they exited the quiet room, breaking free of the aura of it all. Not that it felt gloomy or anything, it was simply…different, almost as though the air in the hallway was fresher than the air of the master bedroom.

They ate leftover turkey in silence. James was fine with that. He wasn't in much of a mood to talk, although he realised that he had been about to tell Lily something before his mother had screamed. He dismissed the idea of telling her now, however, as right now, going into a description of how happy it made him to finally get to know Lily (and vice versa) seemed thoroughly inappropriate. Besides, he was drained of all energy and he wanted nothing more than to take off his socks and crawl under his bed sheets, undoubtedly sleeping away the imagery of his mother, locking it into the confines of his memory never to be bothered with again. As they climbed up the front stairs, Lily, again in the lead, stopped, again, and turned to speak to him.

"I don't want to sleep alone tonight." He was shocked. Lily Evans was in an odd way asking him to accompany her to bed. Or was she? _Girls!_ They were so weird sometimes. Once again, James found himself fruitlessly searching for something to respond with. She stood staring at him, meeting his eyes with a stern look on her face. James made a second mental note this night: _'look' does not have to be spoken to mean business, but can be replaced by the 'look' on her face._

"We could sleep in the lounge? On the sofas?" Her eyes told him he was being inconsiderate, so he waited for her to speak.

"What about your mother's room?" She seemed relieved that he had allowed her input on the matter. "She might need you again tonight. I saw a couch that I could sleep on, you can sleep in your mother's bed." James agreed for the sake of agreeing, though he didn't much like the suggestion, not at all actually. His mother would be fine. The episodes only came once to four times a week, not a night. He'd much rather sleep But she wouldn't understand. James tried to look at it from her perspective and reasoned the following: Lily's mother died alone. She probably did not wish for his mother to die alone either, but she wouldn't die tonight, James knew this. She was too strong and besides, no one had announced to her that James was ready to say farewell. The truth was that in reality, James wasn't quite sure he was ready to let his mother go, even if it did mean more sufferance for her.

Once Lily's bed had been set up on the couch (what with fluffy pillows, extravagantly expensive bed sheets and a cover), James made his way to his mother's bed. He hesitated. His father had slept on this side of the bed, and the last memory James had of his father was of him laying here, his mother beside him and James on the other side, holding back his sobbing whilst trying to stay strong for his mother. Not such a good thing to place in your head before you fall asleep, James reasoned, and found himself throwing all his attention on Lily. She was most likely already sleeping by now. Crying did have that effect. He knew that the last time he had cried the way she did, his head had throbbed with the most unbearable pain, something had blocked off his chest, like a lead weight settling in just to annoy him. His arms had also gone weak, as had his legs, and his eyes…he had barely been able to keep them open.

…Much like now…slowly, his eyes closed and gradually, a wave of welcomed darkness took over, sending James off to dream land.

Stirring from Lily's couch abruptly broke his sleep. Light was finding cracks between the curtains to slip through, though no one's face was in their path. Reaching over, James picked up his glasses off the nightstand and looked in Lily's direction. She smiled weekly at him, eyes still having a difficult time adjusting to the morning. She looked better than she did last night, all rested and all. She looked refreshed.

He smiled back at her, a sort of good morning smile he used whenever he didn't feel his voice could handle whispering. At this, her smile grew wider.

"James?" James shoulders shook. Lily hadn't said that, his mother had. That meant Mrs Potter was awake. That meant… "Honey, why did you two come in here so early? Let your ol' mum sleep a while, it's still dreadfully early…" she was mumbling. She was a morning mumbler. Always had been, always will be. In fact, it is possible that James inherited this trait from her, but this very morning, who could tell? He was mute.

Lily decided to stand and walk over to his mother's side of the bed. _Please don't say anything, Lily, don't say a thing!_ In his mind, James pretended he was sending her brain messages or something, imagining his words floating out of the top of his head into her ears. When she opened her mouth, James swore he'd take on the study of legilimency and occlumency.

"Mrs Potter, are you feeling better?" she had a worried look on her face, the sort of look a mother gives a child when he has a fever.

"Yes, Lily dear, why ever wouldn't I be?" His mother looked confused. "James, why wouldn't I be fine?" she directed an accusing glare at her son, although a trace of fear fluttered in the corner of her eyes.

Realising that James was not about to say anything (he was simply looking at his mother's face, making everyone in the room feel extremely uncomfortable), Lily spoke up once more. "Last night, Mrs Potter, you screamed. James ran in here to see what happened. You fell out of your bed, Mrs Potter, and James took care of you." James caught tears welling in his mother's eyes. She looked as though Voldemort himself was in her room threatening to murder all the ones she loved. Perhaps, in a way, this is the same feeling Lily's words had sent through her heart.

"No," she whispered softly, 'no," she whispered again, although this time James looked away and gave in to his nervous impulses: pushing his glasses up his nose, ruffling his hair, flicking his fingers. "James," she sighed, "get out."

He hadn't expected that. That was why he had jumped immediately out of bed. Whenever his mother said something in that low of a tone, that meant roughly the same thing as saying "look" at the beginning of a sentence. Except it meant more. It meant, in one simple word, _obey_.

"Mrs Potter – "

"Take your friend too, James Edgar Potter. I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. You should have stayed where you were, James Potter, you should have left me alone." James' chest dug into his lungs. He felt as though he couldn't bring air to them. She had never been this angry with him. Never.

"Yes, ma'am." He pleaded with Lily to drop it, to turn around and follow him out the door, but Lily was shocked and didn't notice. She simply stared at his mother with a look of pity and sorrow in her eyes. "Lily," he said, voice cracking from both the morning and the stress the situation was causing him. She looked at him apologetically.

"James, I – I'm sorry," she said, still not moving. "I, I thought you," she struggled to find her words. He was curious to know what it was she was feeling inside, what she was thinking about, concerning his mother's reaction. But on the other hand, he was scared that Lily, blunt girl, would come out and say it right then. "Mrs Potter, your son," _oh no!_ James head erupted in a panic. How to get Lily Evans to shut up? That was something not even Dumbledore had managed to figure out, and now James, him, he was supposed to keep her from saying anything more.

"Lily," he interrupted.

"Don't try to protect me, James. I am your mother, I can handle whatever a teenage witch has to say. So go on then, Miss Evans, what is it?" James couldn't bring himself to look at his mother, but then again he didn't need to. He knew she was angry, he knew she would never forgive him for what Lily would say.

"I am just shocked, is all, Mrs Potter. Here James sat by your side for at least two and a half hours, watching you flinch in pain, seeing you suffer, rolling on the ground covered in cold sweat, tangled up in your blankets. And today, today you shrug him off. At least thank him for staying by your side! He did exactly what any proud parent would want him to do! He – "

"Miss Evans, do not meddle in things you do not understand." Her voice was cold. Icy.

"I could have said the same to you a few days ago at the train station, but I didn't. Do you know why?" No response. James was ready to kill himself though, for he knew whatever was coming up would ultimately be the death of him. "Because I know when to accept help, and I am grateful for what you did, and forever indebted towards you and James for taking me away from my sister. And no, I do not understand what sort of illness you have, and I don't understand the relationship between you and your son, but then again, Mrs Potter, you didn't understand what was happening with me that day did you? You didn't know that both my parents had died this year, you didn't know that I was left in the custody of my older sister for the next year or so. My older sister whose sole purpose in life is to treat me like an animal just because I have abilities she does not. But you decided to meddle in my business anyway, didn't you? Well, here I am, Mrs Potter. Except the tables have turned. You are sick. Your son is taking care of you. Acknowledge it, Mrs Potter, and stop acting so strong. James is old enough, strong enough. And acting like nothing is happening only makes it more difficult to accept it." Lily's eyes had welled up with tears, and her cheeks had gone a very deep shade of red.

On the bed, his mother sat quietly, staring into Lily's eyes. James was nervous. He could see the sparks flying through the air, the exchange of the Gleam of Death from one witch to the other. He wasn't stupid, James actually prided in the fact that he was quite the perceptive one when he wanted to be, and now just happened to be one of those times. Lily hadn't just said that in defence for him, although that made up the beginning of the argument, but she had obviously said it in a way that was much more personal to her. Perhaps her father, who had died of cancer, had played the same part as his mother. Or perhaps the fact that her mother's aneurism had been without warning had made the two deaths even more unbearable than they needed to be. It was possible that Lily wanted nothing more than to express what she felt was important in times like these. But she was right. Both were. Lily did not understand fully the situation at hand. She was an outsider looking in, trying to figure out the complex dance he and his mother had been dancing ever since his father had died.

Sometimes, though, you needed an outsider to tell you the flaws of your plans.

James' mother closed her eyes, swallowing back saliva that had obviously pooled in her mouth during her staring match against Lily. He felt bad for his mother. She hadn't even had a chance to shoot down Lily. Lily had made her point, and what a clear point it was. His mother, o strong one, had actually been beaten by her son's classmate.

"We'll be downstairs, mother," James placed his hand on Lily's lower back and led her towards the door.

"I'm sorry." James stopped moving. There was an echo in the room. Lily had mouthed the words, but the voice had not been hers. His back straight (from shock), he turned to look in his mother's eyes. Surely there was sarcasm there, or perhaps a faint smile to hint that she was up to no good. But he looked on with no avail. She was being sincere. The bottom of his stomach gave way, and that seemed to have unlocked the door of his memories. Every time he had helped his mother as she lay on her back on the rug, every time she had pretended to start a spell but James, knowing how much pain it would cause her, had jumped in and muttered the incantation ahead of time…every time she smiled at him and told him how much he reminded her of his father…Everything that he had worked tirelessly to hide away came with full force to the front of his head.

"Me too," he whispered softly. He would have stayed there for an entire month, in front of his mother, not moving, trying desperately not to breathe, but the feel of Lily's hand on his back snapped him out of it (whatever 'it' was) and together they made their way down to the kitchen letting his mother have her privacy.

He turned to Lily as they were walking down the stairs, and for one moment, just one inkling of a second, he felt this over empowering urge to scream at her, to let loose all his rage at her having rocketed the balance his relationship with his mother that he had worked so long to equilibrate.

Instead, he smiled weakly and said a simple, "thank you."

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Next chapter: Debating whether or not I should continue this day or have a bit of a time lapse...we'll see. I'll think about it at work.

Oooh, great news - I'm almost cured! I love you, personal immune system, you are so hard working and efficient!


	5. 05 Manly Wizard

To make things a little different...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Harry Potter series. The woman who does is a literary genius, and I am but an avid admirer of her work.

_Author's note: _Yay, chapter 5! I had to dothe laundry today,but I think I'm so into it right now that I'm going to write 6 as well. Again, 5 didn'tturn out quite like I wantedit to. I keep planning more action, more action, but it's mostly sentiment and conversation. Grrr, but I know there's action comingup because there has to be becauseI said so. Haha. (Ok, that sounded real mature.) On a great note, however, walking home from work, I was able to formulate the last chapter of the story, or at least part of it, so that I now know where I'm headed. Yay!

To all the readers - Thanks for reading. I know you're out there, I know you're silent, but the fact that you are reading goes a long way for me!

Now for the reviewers - Thank you so much for the input!

DoomonasticK - I'm glad you picked up on the tiny smudge of suspense I put in there.And happier that youliked Chapter 4.And, of course, thank you for the compliment!

NJ MacReiley - I'm thinking I'm going to try my best to update every day until I finish the story, although I am tempted to start work on my other story that has about ten chaptersdone, but, like I wrote in my profile, it's in need of a bit of work. Anyway, that way, no one'll have to go back and re read everything. Yay!

WeirdNot Boring - I also find this story depressing. Chapter 4 depressed the caca out of me too,with a bit of YAY for Lily. I'm super thrilled that youfind it canon. I'm trying my best to stay on track (though obviously, with the lack of information concerning these people, it is very difficult). Keep reading!

Hazelocean -There you are, another chapter! Hurray!

nora17 - I continued from there (roughly), so I hope it suits your liking. School is startingSept. 1st for me too, and I hope that by then, this story will be up and finished! And also, thankstomy courageous white blood cells who have been fighting incessantly to keep me perky, I have triumphed over my sickness (whatever it was). Yahoo! Oh, and James' POV stays. I likeJames. He's a very confused person...and confusing...methinks...

teresa hughes - I had no idea I was going to use that. None whatsoever, but I do that sometimes, leave things that are perfect to go with other things, and I love it when I do! Your compliments flatter me, and there's nothing else I can do but grin foolishly and say, as James said at the end of last chapter, "Thank you".

Ugh! That was long. Maybe next time I'll put the thanks and stuff at the bottom, what do you think?

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**Chapter 5 - Manly Wizard**

That day, Gwendolyn Potter did not move from the master bedroom. James, half worried for her, half angry with her, had decided to leave her alone for the day, sending up their house elf with food, and to check up on the state of things. For their part, Lily and James had actually spent the day in separate rooms (except during mealtimes) and spoke of useless things when together (as forced conversation usually led to).

The day after The Argument (James had christened it himself), he had brought his mother breakfast. They hadn't talked much, only saying 'good morning' to one another, but for the rest of the time, James had sat on the couch where Lily had slept, watching his mother eat (and noticed for the first time what a remarkable appetite she had).

Lunch brought James to sit beside his mother's bed. She had inquired on the state of the house, on whether or not he had made plans for the summer. They chatted a while after they'd finished their soup and tuna sandwiches and James had left the room in search of Lily, to tell her of his mother's progress. She had shown genuine happiness for James, and as they had settled outside (to "tan" she had informed him, though that only meant falling asleep lazing around outside to him – such an unproductive thing to do) James had invited her to join them in the master bedroom for dinner. "I'd rather not," she had replied all too quickly. James had expected it, but still felt slightly put out.

Before supper that evening, James found his mother out of her bed wandering the upstairs corridor. When he questioned her with a slight raise of his eyebrow, she responded casually, "My legs were stiffening up, and I believe my behind has officially made a permanent indent in my mattress." She had turned into the bathroom and smiled proudly at James. Little did she know that the foolish grin eating up three quarters of his face was also one of pride.

At fifteen minutes to seven, James snuck into his room (leaving Lily and his mother in the main lounge to sort out their differences) and dug out, from underneath a loose floorboard, a little mirror. Sitting on his bed, he looked deep into it and spoke the name "Sirius Black" with clarity.

And sure enough, moments later, the familiar grey fathomless eyes he had spent so many detentions with appeared behind the glass, along with his (handsome, though James would never admit it as wizards did not make a habit of complimenting their best mates' good looks) face, his dark hair that fell with elegance over his eyes (rather than the sticking up on ends look James had lived with his entire life).

"Heya Prongs!" Still alive, I see," smirked the boy. James chuckled slightly. Obviously, the Marauders had seen Lily Evans come home with him and his mom. But he didn't feel like talking about Lily to Sirius right now and so he moved on to change the subject.

"Mom misses you, mate! Worried sick about you actually."

Sirius' grin got larger as he replied, "Tell her I miss her like hell! And then give her a great hug for me. Moony's mom's driving me up the wall here!" James laughed, knowing full well that Mrs Lupin was nowhere near as bad as Mrs Pettigrew, but that she could still get over protective of her 'handsome Remus'. "So, er, Prongs, listen, I finally learned that I'm inheriting my uncle's cash, so I er, think I'll be able to live on my own now, actually, planning on buying a place next winter."

James' smile vanished. Sirius was going to leave him and his mother a lone for Christmas, and then forever after. He was sad, really, that his best friend would want to leave the Potters' home so quickly. Yet, it had always been difficult to keep Sirius in one place – especially if there was an authority figure in close proximity. Sirius Black was definitely made to live alone. So, without further pause, James made an effort to seem unaffected by it. "We both know you'll drop by every meal, Padfoot, so it's really no big difference, is it?"

"Wanker," Sirius retorted, a look of false hostility on his face. "So on with the meeting! My best guess is that Moony'll make head boy this year, which means – "

"No," James interjected, "I told you, Dumbledore won't give it to him. Remember? He knows about his Hairy Little Problem too!"

"So?"

James sighed. Sirius could aggravate him so much at times. They'd been arguing about this ever since Remus had gotten the Prefect badge. That fateful day, Sirius had launched himself into a never ending planning session on what they could do during seventh year, as having a Head Boy in the group would definitely prove itself extremely beneficial. Especially with the more risky plans.

"So, how can he expect to rely on Moony patrolling the corridors when he's stuck in a haunted house or in the hospital wing?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "The who, O Wise One, do you suggest we make Marauder now so that my plans – "

"Our plans," James corrected, for it had become routine for all four to gather in the room of requirement every Wednesday evening (Quidditch was on Tuesday and Friday, with occasional Saturday morning practices, so Friday was out of the question, and Sunday was usually reserved for homework they had been putting off for a little over a week) to contribute to the massive plan book.

"Fine, fine, OUR plans, can see the light of day? Or rather, darkness of night?" The idiot laughed at his own joke which really wasn't a joke. _Oh boy,_ James thought.

"No one. We wait. Although honestly, I think he'll be Ravenclaw…you know that chap there with the crooked nose and the –"

"Bushy eyebrows?" Sirius nodded his approval. "You're probably right on that one. IF Moony doesn't get it. But…Prongs I don't know if we can convert him – he's such a stiff git, that one is. He'll never be good enough to – "

"I know," James' spirit started to soar as he thought of trying to lure the next Head Boy into becoming a Marauder strictly for productivity purposes. He blamed it on Sirius. There was something about his best mate-turned-brother-slash-accomplice-in-crime that got his testosterone flowing, something that made him want to roll around in the mud, stick twigs and leaves in his hair and grunt. It was quite the feeling too, to be sneaking around at night, hidden underneath a blanket of clouds, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his mind flirted with the idea of getting caught in the act. No one ever evoked that feeling to the same degree as this young wizard staring at him in the mirror did.

Still, no matter how much fun it was to cause havoc around the school with Sirius and Remus and Peter, at times, James simply wanted to lay back, relax, chat about brooms or something else that didn't involved the possibility of major punishment. With the Marauders, more specifically, with Sirius, serious discussions always led to pranks. James didn't mind, though, not any more. He had long ago accepted his friend's need to rebel, his outright refusal to accept boundaries, and his carefree (often careless) ways. At times, yes, it was difficult to keep up, as James' parents had managed to drill in some respect for rules and for others. Whenever James would reject one of Sirius' ideas, he often felt as though, to make up for his "'weakness" (as surely Padfoot saw it as such), he would have to do something extra cruel, extra rebellious. So he did, but it doesn't mean he felt good about it. Although, when Padfoot would slap him heartily on the back, he would argue otherwise.

"Master Potter, Sir." James hid the mirror behind his pillow, throwing his head on top of it, and called to the house elf to come in. "Dinner is served, Sir."

"Yes, thank you, Rhett, I'll be right down." With a bow of the head, the blue eyed green skinned creature backed out of James' dim room.

"Retch!" Joked his almost brother as James peeked into the mirror again. "See ya next time, Prongs."

"Sure. And keep working on that thing with Moony and Wormtail, you know the Big One, and I'll try to fix our Head problem." He really had no idea what to do, but he felt that if anyone had the slightest chance to come up with a logical answer, it would be him.

"Will do. Bye then," and with that, James found himself staring at his own reflection.

He stopped. Something looked off, and _hmmm-_ing to himself, he tried to pick out exactly what it was that had changed. It was his eyes, he concluded. _The lighting is terrible in this room and it makes them seem weird_. Accepting his suspicion as a valid conclusion, James placed the mirror back under the floorboard and ducked out of his room. Making his way towards the dinning room, he did as always; he tucked in his shirt, unruffled the creases from his pants, and slid his glasses up his nose. His mother liked it when he came to the table looking proper, and today, like any other day, James wanted to please her. Then he stopped before turning the corner into the hall. He stared at the carpet beneath his grey socks. Could he hear anything? Any screaming, or snuffling or odd silences? No, then why stop? The answer was simple, he was nervous because he didn't expect anything, yet expected everything to be going on in there between the two women all at once.

Unsure if he made sense, James scratched the back of his head and entered the place where sat one white haired and one red haired witch. They had just finished saying something, what, he couldn't tell, but after he kissed his mother on the head and she smiled again that proud smile at him, he caught her flashing Lily another smile, a private smile that completely blew him off and left him befuddled. _Women!_ He said to himself, and it was that moment that James Potter concluded that to try to fully comprehend women would be futile and instead, he should focus on knowing them. Yes, life would be much simpler that way.

They ate without tension, Lily making sarcastic remarks about how their Potions professor would often try to talk her into changing houses (not that it was possible or anything). Then James found out that his father had been a Ravenclaw and his mother had been Slytherin. "Oh, don't you give me that face, James. We both know you would fit right in with the Slytherins!"

"I would not! Otherwise, I'd be there right now. They're just plain evil, those Slytherins are, Mum, I swear. Times have changed since you went to Hogwarts, Mum, and – "

"Actually, what your son is trying to say but failing miserably to do so is that the Slytherins _he_ notices actually have it in them to be evil, meanwhile, the ones I associate with essentially tend to be just as sweet and charming as any Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor." James glared at her. How dare she betray Gryffindors that way? Associating with Slytherins in a civil manner, hmph!

They resumed eating their meatloaf in silence, but James, the energetic teenager that he was, couldn't keep quiet. "You were really a Slytherin?"

"No," she replied casually, "but now I know how important it is to you. Such a trivial thing, too," she mumbled to herself as she took a large bite out of her potato.

James shrivelled his nose. Defeat. He had been defeated. Then, suddenly remembering that he owed his mother a hug on Sirius' behalf, he stood from the table and walked to his mother, wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "JAMES!" she exclaimed, "What in Dumbledore's beard was THAT for?"

James smiled. "I got an owl from him telling me to." She eyed him suspiciously. He shrugged and kissed her forehead.

"And that?"

"Was from me, so that you can forgive me for being a stuck up schoolboy who still uses school houses to differentiates between personalities." While saying this, James was actually looking at Lily across the table. He hoped she would get the fact that he was apologizing to her as well.

"No need to apologize, Potter, well all know boys don't catch on as quickly as witches do!" The two witches laughed together while James smiled in relief. So he'd just been insulted by Evans again, but this time his mother was backing her up. _Oh well,_ he thought. Ah, today was a good day. No, today was a great day. Nothing could ruin this day. He stole a glance at his mother who was looking back and forth from James to Lily with a perplexed expression.

"So what house were you in – JUST for curiosity's sake." He rubbed the back of his head (out of habit) playing as though he was only an innocent young lad asking a harmless question.

"Ravenclaw, James. Your father was Gryffindor and I was Ravenclaw." He knew his father had been Gryffindor. He remembered a time when his father had told him about how he always thought Gryffindor's common room was the best most comfortable looking room he'd ever seen, thus why he had it replicated in the basement.

"Would you mind telling us how you two got together?" Lily asked meekly. James stared at her with wide eyes. She just couldn't keep herself under control, could she?

His smiled as her eyes took on a distant look. "We'll keep that for tomorrow evening." James saw Lily's head drop in disappointment. Dessert was eaten soon after, however, and Mrs Potter had escaped to her study where she was most likely looking through pictures of her and her beloved.

"Do you think she'll actually say?" Lily had asked James before they parted to go in their separate rooms.

It was James' turn to smile mocking at her. "We'll just have to find out, now won't we?" And with smug look, James turned on his heels and walked into the room across the hall – his own room – meanwhile Lily retreated further into the corridor to reach her room.

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A/N - Like I said, I believe I'm going to update this once more today, if all goes as planned (which there are no reasons why things shouldn't). I think I'm going to hint at the future something that will happen, but I've realised that there isn't much character development as far as Lily goes...James a little bit, although I can't wait for him to fully evolve. (For some reason, I'm hearing Rupert Grint's "Why spiders? Why couldn't it be "follow the butterflies"? from CoS. Anyway...) So I'm going to concentrate, I think, I'm hoping, on Lily or rather how James perceives Lily.

Also, just a little question: What does AU stand for in fan fiction? Author's Universe? lol If anyone can help me out with that, then great, and thanks!


	6. 06 The Book of Facial Expression Reading

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Harry Potter. No I am not happy about it, but then again, if I owned it, then the series wouldn't be as captivating, as electric, as enticing as JK Rowling has made it, now would it? So then, maybe I am happy that I am not the owner.

**Author's Note: **Well, I did it! Another 2 updates in a row. Yuppiiii! So again, I want to take the time to thank everyone and anyone who's ever stumbled across this little story of mine, read a chapter, enjoyed it and continued to read on. And to those who review, your words mean much more to me than you'll ever know. Thank you ever so much. Oh, and I got the answer to my question about AU (thanks a bunch - you know who you are!) and I might dabble into one of them AU stories once this one's finished.

Oh, **Author's Note part Deux: **This chapter's kind of weird and random. I was super into the last chapter, then I folded clothes, and when I came back, my mind was completely out of the old chapter and already working on future chapters, skipping over this chapter. And so forgive the Patuuiiey I like to label as "where did that come from?" It may be horribly written right now but you will see that, eventually, all will work out in the end. (HURRAY for having written last half of last chapter!)

Enjoy yourselves!

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**Chapter 6 - The Book of Facial Expression Reading**

The following morning, or rather afternoon, James was awakened by loud chimes that he guessed came from the front gates. Then, his mother used the sonorus charm to scream at him the following: "JAMES! GET OUT OF BED YOU LAZY WIZARD AND ANSWER THE DOOR!" James complied, although not without an annoyed groan.

Throwing the covers off of himself, James sat on the edge of his bed, put up his right arm and scratched his armpit while yawning quite unattractively, scratching the back of his head with the raised aforementioned right arm, and then stretched. Pulling a white camisole on, he stood, dragged his feet over to his nightstand and placed his glasses delicately (yeah right) onto his face. He opened the door with his right hand and scratched his behind (again unattractively) with his left, all the while mumbling to himself something about how unfair it was to be woken up early to attend to guests when they had house elves to do the less exciting work.

The corridors were empty (no surprises there), and so were the rooms he had a chance to peek in on the way to the front door, which was odd to him, as there were supposed to be two other witches with him in the house. Making nothing of it, he continued along his way, until finally reaching his destination: the front door.

He stood staring at the front door for a moment, not really noticing how large it actually was, or how much physical effort had been put into it, but simply to glower at it. He felt that if he could stare at it for a long period of time, then it would eventually disappear and he would be forced to turn around and go back to bed. Obviously, he was mistaken, as only a few moments later, a knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He sighed and stretched out his hand, yanked on the large brass ring handle and opened the ten feet high door.

"Good morning," he greeted the …people…that weren't?

"Hey James!" James looked down and saw, to his horror, the little boy he had seen a few times in Diagon Alley. Mrs Potter had told her son that he lived in the general neighbourhood and that he'd often talk to his parents about James.

"He looks up to you, sweetie," she had told him once as he had ducked out of the little brown haired boy's sight and into the refuge of his mansion. "You should spend more time with him. He's really sweet you know." She had stopped talking as James had sent her this 'I-don't-want-anything-to-do-with-that-child look'.

"Hey, er – "

"Dorian," the boy chirped in.

"I'm Alexander," came another voice. James jumped. He hadn't noticed two of them there. He turned his head slowly in "Alexander's" direction.

"And I'm Matthew, but you can just call me Matt." And just as he had taken in Alexander's light brown hair, beady little blue eyes and crooked teeth, James jumped again at the third voice and moved on to inspect him. He was a bit rounder than the other two, but, James resolved, since he was taller that he was older and thus would be easier to communicate with. Little did he know, but James was dead wrong.

"How can I help?" James asked, desperately trying to hold back another yawn.

"We need your help with something," cooed in Dorian, no that was Alexander. Ah what did it matter? they both had the same high pitched voices that would inevitably drop a few octaves, after which time, James would actually care about differentiating the two. For now though, he wasn't in the mood and so he kept his gaze on the one called Matthew.

"Yeah, can we come in?"

"No." He knew he was acting like a jerk, but was sure they'd understand that they had disturbed his perfectly peaceful sleep, and that right now, he was not in the mood to play Muggles and Aurors or teach them to fly. All James wanted was his bed, and pillow, and covers, with him in the mix. That's all he wanted.

"Don't be rude, James, let your little friends in." Lily Evans. Always finding ways to exacerbate him. He looked at her and found no hidden desire to see him suffer in her eyes. The Gleam of Death had actually gone!

Glad of this improvement, James visibly lightened up. "I was only kiddin'," he said as he moved out of the doorway and invited the three boys in. Lily seemed satisfied and was about to walk away until… "What are you laughing at?" It was honestly too early for him to even try to understand why Lily would erupt in a sudden laughing fit.

"Potter, you look like a baboon!" She shook her head in disbelief as she ran her eyes up and down him, most likely noticing that his pyjama pants had flying wizards and witches on them, that one of the socks he had pulled on in the dead of the night was fluorescent orange whilst the other hand been green and red with a large hole in the toes. She also probably noticed that James' morning hair stuck up three times more than during the day, and twice as much as after Quidditch. His glasses were on askew, he realised, and his eyes were still squinting as the windows around him let in too much light for his rested eyes.

"Albeit a very fine looking baboon, boys," he said to the three kids who had been the cause of this rather embarrassing situation, playing Lily's insult as coolly as anyone ever could. His quirky reply seemed to have subsided Lily's laughter and as he ushered the three kids (who he noticed were only about as tall as his belly button, _really,_ he thought to himself, _these kids get shorter every year!_) into the lounge, he stole a last quick glance at Lily. Her head was held high, her back was straight, yet relaxed, and there was something on her face that, once again, he couldn't place. _Note to self: get facial expression reading book. Pronto._

By the time the three kids had left around dinner time, James had changed his mind about them. They were okay, and reminded him slightly of Peter. They laughed at everything he said, whether it was meant to be funny or not. They clapped their hands when he demonstrated to them the plan he had concocted to help them. They had praised him and thanked him for at least fifteen minutes before the Rhett had come and called James back into the dinning room. James was really tempted to kiss the little elf, but thought better of it, remembering that he had once caught Rhett wiping his nose on his arm. _Ewww._

"What did they want?" Lily inquired as he placed one foot inside the dinning room. The table wasn't set, and his mother's hair could be seen somewhere in the kitchen.

"My creativity and exceptional skills," he retorted.

Lily marched up to him and, to his horror, the Gleam of Death had returned. Oh, right, something he'd said had probably sounded self centered to her. "HA!" She screamed loudly, sending James' heart into his throat.

"What was that for you mad witch?" he asked as he tried to steady his breathing.

"You're funny Potter, a very funny one, you are. But I was being serious, what did they want?"

James rolled his eyes. "They needed help with a – er – surprise they want to throw their friend."

"A prank?"

"No, a surprise." The woman didn't trust him, of that he was sure. Just by the way she folded her arms across her chest and lowered her chin to glare at him from her shadowed eyes. His thoughts drifted away from her, trying to reach out and grasp anything that may be randomly floating in his head, and he found it: he thought of dinner. He thought of how much food he wanted (as he had only had tea so far today, and a biscuit or two) of how good it will feel inside his stomach. He thought of desert, and how he wished he could try putting gravy on chocolate chip cookies just once to see what it was like.

"Can I help?" If it was possible, although those words had come at quite a regular volume, one could even suggest it was just above a whisper, James' heart once again leapt to the top of his throat. His mind zeroed in on Lily Evans once more, and the only thought that came to his head was _Lily Evans, helping out with a prank?_

And so he said it. "Lily Evans, helping out with a prank?" His voice was heavy with utmost shock and disbelief.

"Why, yes, Potter. I am finally seventeen after all and my skills are quite comparable to yours at times even superior to them, and, not to mention the outrageousness of watching you plan and carry out a perfectly good prank whilst I sit in your very big, very nice, very comfortable home or backyard and pretend as though I'm not bored. Whether you want it or not, Potter, I'm joining you."

James smiled. "What?" she snapped nervously as he stared at her for going-on forty three seconds. "What?" she snapped again, pitch a little higher, as the time lapse between her last 'what' and this one turned to twenty six seconds. He liked this moment very much. Nothing was special about it, nothing life altering or anything, but it was so…how to describe it? Unexpected yet most certainly welcomed. Not to mention, something was brewing in the back of his mind and James found he really liked whatever was happening back there.

"Fine, Lily, you may accompany the boys and me out on our little adventure next week." His stomach growled. He squealed with delight and immediately wished he hadn't. "Let's go eat, now, though, as I haven't properly nourished my demanding, strapping young body yet today."

She rolled her eyes at him. He figured she could see right through his feeble attempts to distract her away from that horrid squeal by reverting back to arrogance and self love. _Darnit,_ he thought, _now I've made myself look like a real baboon._ That was when he realised he was still sporting his sleeping attire. Well, it was too late now to turn 'round and get changed as night had already fallen and he was to crawl under his covers in a few hours' time. He also reasoned at this point that staying in pyjamas all day was actually highly underrated and that he would make a habit of doing this for the remainder of his life – even at Hogwarts.

James' mom had immediately given out orders as James and Lily had walked into the kitchen. Lily had been 'asked politely without the actual option of declining' meanwhile James was downright told to go outside and light a fire. Weird, isn't it, as guests get fancy treatments while the offspring had to endure endless commands from their parents. Of course, James was only kidding himself, and he knew it. His mother had made it quite clear that, although she did expect him to carry out her demand, she had used a playful approach and her eyes had shone with promise.

As he took out his wand and practice his voiceless magic skills, James reflected on the past few years he had spent with his mother. Granted, the year before had been spent in the lovely company of the one and only Mr Sirius Black, whom his mother had shown nothing but love and support for. But James wanted to focus his attention on what happened before that, during it, and after, how it got to this, how their relationship got to the point it had been in up until three days ago.

He tried to think back on his childhood, tried to focus on how life was before the Healers had informed his mom and dad that they indeed were dying of a not so uncommon wizarding illness. As far as he remembered, life had been great. He had been the pride and joy of both his parents; they constantly sought out his company, encouraged him to go on adventures (by himself!) in the forest, tucked him tightly in his bed every night, sat by his bedside telling him stories until he would finally close his eyes and snore lightly. They gave him everything he could ever dream of, and although some people believed that he was spoiled, they actually spoiled him in moderation. True, James had learned on his own how to moderate himself, and he wasn't the type to point at everything he saw in the shops and scream "I WANT IT!" until someone bought it for him. He had actually been a very fussy child, not accepting just any old toy but only the one he wanted. And the one he wanted was always the one he got.

He allowed his mind to drift to his father again. His birthday was fast approaching, being the fifteenth of August, and James couldn't help but think of him during the summers. His mother had always arranged to give the house elves a holiday and she would storm up the kitchen, cooking the best food James had ever tasted. They would either picnic (should the weather permit) or eat a candle lit dinner indoors. Edgar Potter's birthday was spent as strict family time, and even James could appreciate his mother's efforts. Like it was mentioned before, James had the ability to be quite perceptive at times, and the first time he had been allowed to stay up past suppertime on August the fifteenth, James had been able to recognize the romance between his parents. They loved each other as much as they loved him, and James was ever so grateful that they did.

That wasn't to say that they didn't have their fights. Most of them were not necessarily caused but brought on by James and his weird ways. James recalled, with a faint smile the time his father had caught him using his mother's wand, reading her old spell books, desperately searching for a way to turn a throw pillow into a lion. His father had choked back a chuckle, bit back a smile, but his mother, when she found out, had been furious. James remembered how his father had defended him, claiming that he was "too smart for his own good, too curious for his own good," and that the blame shouldn't really be on him for being sneaky, but should be on them for having so carelessly allowed for such a magical thing as a wand lay around the house. James had, of course, nicked it from his mother's own pockets, though he never admitted to it. His father had slept in the Gryffindor Common Room replica for two nights before he had finally apologized to his wife and took James for a walk, which he used as a way to talk to him about the importance of being responsible and such.

His mother came back to his mind at this point, and he realised that he had not accomplished what he had set out to do. His eyes were fixated on the fire, he watched as the bright orange flames grew taller and taller, flickering here and there. He sat back letting the light heat his face. He was comfortable here, and felt it safe to dive back into his thoughts. He never got the chance to get very deep, as his mother and Lily had shown up as soon as he had jumped.

"That's a very nice fire, honey," his mother said as she kissed his mop of hair, feigning an attempt to flatten it down. To be honest, she had been the one to convince him that having wild hair was not such a bad thing, and that it actually added to his already irresistible charm. Of course, back then, James had shuddered to think that his mother thought him to have irresistible charm. He realised that now, he found it quite nice, actually, to have his mother be so nice to him.

Dinner was nice. It was peaceful, as no one seemed to be in the mood to talk much. James kept stealing glances at Lily, trying to figure out whether or not she was actually happy to be staying here with them instead of in the familiarity of her home. Then he remembered that what made her home so well…homely had gone. Her sister resented her, James had learned during The Argument, and so now she really most likely did not have much of a home to go to. Which made him think of his mother. Did she want to stay here with him, or would she rather close her eyes to fly off to her husband, in the home she called his arms.

After a very loud crack from the fire, Mrs Potter, smiling wildly, took out a photo album from behind her back. "It's our story," she informed Lily who had suffered a major fright from the loud crack and was now struggling to maintain an even breath. James recognized the photo album, as he had heard the story loads of times. It had never been his favourite story of his parents, but it had been a comforting one, a familiar one, and his mother or father preferred using this story to calm James after a nightmare and especially during his night terror phase.

Lily's eyes grew wide with interest. "Mrs Potter, if you don't want to tell me – " she began but was immediately quieted by the older witch's hand.

"Nonsense, my dear, complete and utter nonsense. I love this story and it would make me beyond happy to tell it to you." Lily smiled slightly, then looked towards James as though asking him if it was okay for her to hear it.

He thought about making large circles with his head, leaving the gesture to be interpreted by Lily herself. Then he thought better of it. Maybe it was the dancing flames reflected in her eyes, or the excitement twinkling from behind them, all James knew was that he found himself standing up, walking over to Lily, and sat down beside her. "You'll want to hear it, Lily. It's actually quite good. Although it's not the best Potter story - in my humblest unbiased opinion," he added after his mother had opened her mouth in retaliation, "it is definitely one of the top four."

Lily's eyes had followed him from his old sitting place to right beside her. She looked at him now, a grateful blink of the eye (how did he know it meant that she was grateful? He hadn't a clue. Perhaps he didn't need that book after all…). Then she smiled at him, obviously due to a change of thought, for the smile wasn't as homely and thankful as the eye gesture, but it was definitely something personal. A smile meant only for him.

Then she turned her attention to his mother, or, more precisely, the photo album in her hand. "I would love to hear your story, Mrs Potter."

James had never thought nine words could make his mother so happy.

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A/N prt Trois - If anyone notices spelling or grammar mistakes, please please PLEASE feel quite free to point them out to me. I will gladly take your suggestions and will fix the problems as soon as I can. I do revise my work, but you know how it is - you anticipate something and so you see what you should be seeing rather than what is really there. Something like that anyway - something my English teacher said a few years back.

Question: Would you like to hear the story, or would you like me to skip over it and continueon from after the story?


	7. 07 Serendipity

**Disclaimer: **It's all JK Rowling's.

**Author's Note:** Ahh! Sorry it took so long to update! I was sure to have it up by 6pm my time at the latest, but I stayed late at work and...well suffice it to say, I apologize for my tardiness.

I'm not going to post replies to all the reviewers right now as I really HAVE to get back to the story since I have this thing in the back of my head that I need to write! (Which means, perhaps another update before the night is through!) That isn't to say that I haven't read all your reviews at least three times each! Thank you ever so much.

Oh, and I find this chapter a bit...fluffy? I'll let you be the judge of that.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 7- Serendipity**

Mrs Potter took the photo album and opened it to the first page. The picture was that beige colour old pictures have the tendency to be, but the young man in the picture was still waving at them. James relaxed, leaned his head back and let his memory present him with the pictures he had long ago learned by heart.

"This is Edgar – James' father – at about James' age right now. It was taken moments before he noticed me." James, in his mind, saw his younger father, an exact replica of himself except for his longer face and his eyebrow ridge protruded slightly more than his own, and in his mind, he was smiling and waving at whoever had been holding the camera. "You see, back in the days that I went to Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament was still happening, although not was strong as it was in earlier days. To me, however, I had calculated it and turning seventeen was all about being able to submit my name. That specific year, the tourney was being held at Hogwarts and, naturally, Ed thought he'd for sure be the one who would have the chance to represent our school. The only competitor – Albus Dumbledore," she paused, then added as an afterthought, "you might know him, well he also happened to be quite chummy with Ed, though he's always been the reclusive type…Anyway, Albus is another story that in itself takes the better half of the night to tell.

"Edgar Potter never was picked. Fate is funny that way, I suppose, and it was my name the goblet spewed out! Well, you can imagine how surprised and shocked Ed was, what with being the best reputed and promising young wizard Hogwarts had ever seen! But, because of that – here I am shaking hands with our headmaster as he congratulated me – Ed, the Edgar Potter, noticed me, little Gwendy, as my friends called me, for the first time." James' thought drifted from here…

His father had always stopped here and described the first time he had "laid eyes on my precious jewel," as he said it, then would proceed to list all the things he had found unattractive in her. He had explained to James, when the young curious boy had inquired why they got married if he disliked (for 'hate' was a seldom used word with James at that age) his Mum so much. James' memory, instead of showing a photo of his mother taming a hippogriff in order to find her way out of the Forbidden Forest (which from the voice he heard in the background, was where she was in her story), showed him his father's smiling face a twinkle in his hazel eyes, grey hair flecked with white. "James," his father shook his head the way adults do when they are cornered into trying to explain something to a child they know won't understand until much later in their life. "Back then," his memory said to him, "I was jealous because the goblet picked her over me. I didn't actually find her eyes too big or her hair to be ugly, I just did what any young man does to a girl who just beat him – I let out my jealousy that way. Don't look at me like that," he laughed, "one day, you'll understand." He laughed again at his private joke. "O yes, one day you'll see."

"And you still accepted? After all that, you still agreed to date him?" Lily's amusingly outraged voice broke his thoughts away from his father. James smiled. His mother had most likely just finished recounting how his father had unceremoniously asked her out.

In his father's words: _"She was sitting there with her prissy dress and I walked up to her and said, "Gwendolyn, I don't like you but since there's no one left for me to ask, I'm just going to take you to the ball, alright?" She stared at me for a while, probably disgusted by me, but you see, back in those days, witches didn't really have a choice in the matter. Yes, yes they were allowed to work and whatnot, but wizards had a difficult time accepting that movement. So she looked at me and said back, "Not that I like you either, but obviously, I have no choice, as there is still no one left for me to go with either." And then…"_

"I said to him, "The lack of feelings between us is not an excuse to act rudely. You will act like a gentleman," and he nodded and walked off." James opened his eyes to see his mother smiling at him. "Naturally, we went to the ball together, and he did act like a gentleman. And a good thing, too, because you see, I was picked champion for a reason!" She kept staring at James, smiling foolishly as though he had just spilled pumpkin juice all over the front of his shirt. She read his mind, for just as he was about to raise his eyebrow questioningly, she said, "You remind me so much of your father, James."

Lily turned and looked at him then mumbled, "But he probably could never act a gentleman." His mother giggled, James protested with a "HEY!" that was way too high pitched for his usual voice, after which Lily shoved his arm. "Don't deny it, Potter. I, for one, have never heard of you being a gentleman, or any of your friends at that."

James shrugged. He knew it was playful banter, but he wasn't really in the mood. "Er – right. I'm going to go up to bed now, unless you two ladies need me?" He wanted to get away from them both for a while. The memory of his father talking to him had been too vivid, had hit too close to home, and he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He felt bad as soon as the words left his mouth. His mother had so wanted for him to be there. He hadn't known a moment ago, but now he was sure, just by the look on her face. "I could stay for a while longer, if you'd like."

James heard Lily turn her attention to his mother expectantly. She probably knew that his mother had been disappointed that James had attempted to leave so suddenly, women always knew what others felt, it's like they were all legilimens masters or something, There was silence. James knew what this meant. It meant his mother would never forcefully keep him here when she knew he wanted to get away.

"We would both greatly appreciate your company, James." Lily spoke, but James had the slightest inkling it hadn't been from her. Not entirely from her. His caught his mother sending an appreciative gaze towards the young girl beside him. But something else happened at that moment, something that hadn't happened to him in the longest time. His cheeks burned from it, his eyes grew timid, and his hands got all sweaty. James Potter was blushing. But why? Why would he be blushing? Lily had only said what his mother had intended to say but hadn't been quite able to say. It wasn't like Lily had just started singing about how deeply she fancied him, but…just to have her say that she would appreciate his company; that made all the difference to him. She could have just said something like "Just stay, Potter, be a man" or something along those lines. But she had used sophisticated speech, a level tone, an even pitch, words that involved her own feelings rather than directing the attention towards only him or his mother. Lily had included herself.

"That evening," she continued as though the interruption hadn't even occurred, leaning in towards Lily to show her the picture of Ed and Gwendy all dressed up, arms hooked together, "Edgar treated me with utmost respect and sincerity." James focused on the picture. He had this one in his memory as well, but he wanted in on the story now, wanted to include himself the way Lily and his mother were. His mother's dark hair had been pulled back into an elegant twist and her fringe had also been pulled back but pinned back in a way that made them create a large bump near her forehead. She had two strands that weren't quite curled hanging before her ears. She looked like a lady. James admitted to himself long ago that his mother had been a fair maiden during her youth,

His father looked, once again, exactly like James did. He was not strikingly handsome, not the same way James subconsciously thought Sirius was, but rather the softness of his eyes and his unruly hair made him appeal to people as a…well, a true gentleman.

"We danced, we ate, we talked and danced at the same time and noticed that there were little things that we did that seemed so natural. Simple things, really, like when he laughed, Ed's nostrils flared and when I pointed it out to him, he wasn't bashful. Rather, he smiled and told me I was the first to point it out to him. Another simple gesture that piqued our curiosity in one another was when he took me out on the dance floor. His hand rested on the small of my back and with his other hand, he had taken mine and when we walked out there, we both smiled at each other. Now, I didn't know the reason why he was smiling, but I do know that I smiled because it had always been a dream of mine to be led onto a dance floor in such a manner and Ed had done it without even knowing." She settled her gaze on the picture, stroking the corners lightly with her aged hand. "Simple happenstances of serendipity such as those are not meant to be neglected or casually written off as gentlemanliness and ladylike manners. They occurred to grasp our attention. And it did.

"Naturally, James' father easily slipped into friendly mode and we soon built a relationship together that was based on respect and friendship. We married a few years out of Hogwarts and had been next to inseparable since our wedding day." She smiled at James, who immediately caught the tears welling up in her eyes and turned to Lily.

"Did you ever regret…?" Lily trailed off. James was not quite sure where she was going with this, but redirected his eyes to his mother's face. A sly grin worked its way stealthily into her eyes.

"There were times where I'd wish I'd sent Ed to Antarctica on a hexed broom, but never have I regretted any moment of my life. You see, at my age, you have learned to accept your life and all the little quirks and accidents and mistakes that contributed to it. Whenever there is something that rubs me the wrong way, I just smile and say, 'all is as meant to be'."

James nodded in agreement. He had phrased it differently in his mind though, saying that 'fate is inevitable'. It actually made up his life motto, along with the added 'but you get to choose whether you want fate to catch you from the back, or if you want to meet it face to face'. It was a certain intuition he had, always needing to run at the danger he sensed approaching rather than turn around and look for cover. Sort of like this bestial instinct flaring up inside of him.

Lily also seemed to be considering Mrs Potter's words, and when James turned to her, Lily nodded her head. "It makes sense," she said, "but sometimes, it's just so…pointless to… Sometimes you want to convince yourself that nothing's wrong with the picture you are faced with, but you can't because you know that..That things could be so much better if one little event had or hadn't happened." James watched as she gathered her knees and pulled them close to her chest. She was concentrating on the fire, most likely in attempts to block out whatever demons were crawling out of her memory.

Mrs Potter crawled over to Lily and began stroking her back. "Dear child," she said as Lily visibly struggled to keep her emotions under control. "It takes time to let it all settle in. You learn to accept, you can't just accept it as soon as it happened. Take our argument as an example." She swallowed back something James was convinced he recognized as her own personal pride. "I was shocked that you had spoken to me in that manner. It was not your place as a youth in my home to speak to me as you did. I was almost outraged to the point of asking you to leave, but I didn't. Instead, I moped around in my room until James came, and when he did, I realised that all that you had said to me was true. I resented you for saying it because I did not want anyone telling me what it was I was doing wrong with my life and my son's. And I promised myself when James walked out after lunch that I was going to work hard to break out of the habits I had hidden behind." James didn't realise he was staring at his mother, but when she directed her gaze towards him for a few seconds, he understood. He understood that that had not only been a way to comfort Lily, but also an attempt to bring James to a new page with her. His smile, though unsure whether she had caught it, was his way of showing her that he had caught the message.

Lily cried for a little while, not as much as she had that other night, but she cried nonetheless. James watched, slightly less uncomfortable than what he had been during that time. His mother was reassuring her and he inwardly praised her for being so…motherly. That's what he realised Lily needed all along, a parental figure, someone to help her through the ordeal that was most likely just now hitting her squarely in the face. After all, during the school year, Lily didn't get to see her parents, so even if they died during that time, she probably didn't fully comprehend that they were not at home sitting in the lounge nibbling on cookies (or whatever the Evans's did with their free time). At least, not until she realised that she would be going home to an empty house. Come to think of it, she hadn't exactly been at home yet, either, which made James feel a tad uneasy. She should go to take whatever memories she wanted and decide whether or not she preferred staying with him and his mother.

"Thank you," Lily said to Mrs Potter, though she only shrugged it off with a wave of her hand.

"That's what I'm here for, dear. Whenever you need me, I'm here for you." James watched on as she smiled at Lily, taking her thumb to wipe a tear off her cheek. Lily smiled her appreciation.

His mother backed away, winking at James, and returned to her own seat. James looked at her innocently and she began flailing her arms in a persistent way. He rolled his eyes at her, knowing full well what she wanted him to do.

And he did it.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder in a friendly sort of way, tightening his grip on her far shoulder. "That goes for me too." She stared at him as though expecting him to burst out laughing. But he didn't, he was being genuinely serious. After the suspicion subsided from her face, James squeezed her shoulder and found himself whispering, "Welcome to the Potters."

At that moment, he wasn't sure if she had heard him. He also wasn't sure whether he really wanted her to have heard him.

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Ah, there it is. Chapter 7. I find that James is being a prick right now (to me, not to you guys or Lily or anything) and he wants to say or do something, but he won't tell me what! GRRR It angers me, honestly. Maybe he'll reveal it for 8?


	8. 08 Requesting

**Disclaimer: **It all started with an idea in the mind of a brilliant woman named JK Rowling.

**Author's Note:** YAY! Chapter 8 is up! I suspect everyone knew and knows what's coming up now! Tee hee, I'm so predictable and cliché, but meinh, that's life! Once again, thanks be to all those who are reading this story and major appreciation to those who review.

There were a few things I wanted to say for I belive it was Chapter 6? Muggles and Aurors is a game I invented (that I haven't played yet, sorry) that sort of resembles Cops and Robbers. Aurors play the role of the cops and the robbers are substituted by almost dilusional like characters representing Muggles. It seemed clever at the time.

Also, concerning the story of Mr & Mrs Potter, I truly hope I didn't disappoint anyone. I know I could have gone into great detail, but like I said, James has been nagging at me for the past say thirty two hours, and I couldn't stop probing into his head. Hopefully I'll be able to choke it out of him soon! Anyway, I was trying to go for something not overly sweet or romantic, something normal, not another love/hate relationship thing, and not sprouting from a "she's like my little sister" to "wow, she's definitely not my sister" relationship. Aherm H/G Aherm And do you have any idea how difficult it is to put yourself in the shoes of a witch and wizard who are attending Hogwarts at least a hundred and thirty yearsbefore Harry's time? That's INSANELY more complicated than it sounds.

Anyway, here's 8 - let me know what you think!

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**Chapter 8 - Requesting**

The following seven days flew by hardly noticed. James' life seemed to suddenly swell up with things to occupy his time. For one, there was the three boys that he had promised to help, for two, he was still obliged to take care of some chores around the house, and for three, James oft found himself engaged in all sorts of conversations with both Lily and his Mum. He wondered if they purposely hunted him down, at times, and cornered him just to talk. Why the two witches had suddenly begun to verbally empty out their thoughts as soon as he entered the room, James hadn't a clue.

Not that he could actually find a reason to complain. Quite the contrary, actually. The muddled haired wizard enjoyed hearing Lily's opinions on Slughorn and why he was so…well such a … such a special Professor. They had both thought hard about what to classify him as and neither could find a better category than "special" and so stuck with it. He also liked it when Lily spoke seriously with him about things that mattered to her. Such as her mother, her father, why her sister Petunia resented her so, and how all of that made her feel. He'd even discovered that he was right about her parents' deaths not seeming real to her during the school term. She looked shocked when James had replied, "It was the same after my father died."

With his Mum, conversation never ceased. She was always talking, rambling on about some thing or another, always cheerful, always mysterious. She had, of course, suffered another one of those 'spasms' and had remained awake for a long while after talking to James. She didn't only thank him for staying by her side all this time, she revealed that she actually couldn't be happier that he did. His mother did, however, express repent at the unfairness of James having to see her go through all this. To this, James responded humbly, "You know, Mum, the full extent of your illness seems more real to me when I see you suffer like this. N – not that I enjoy watching your pain, but it reminds me of how fragile life is and how difficult it sometimes is to put up with it. And then when you're finally free of it all, it's like it was all worth it to you because you still smile and laugh and enjoy life as best you can." To this she had simply laid a soft hand on his cheek and whispered with a twinkle in her eye, "You are growing up, James." He had almost been tempted to puff out his chest at her statement.

Lily had also passed a similar comment, although under different circumstances. They had been given the duty to hang out all the clothes to dry in the sun and had kindly chatted until they reached the subject of make believe friends. Lily had confided that she had imaginary friends up until the age of ten. James replied, "I still have some." She had laughed heartily, believing it to be a joke, but James had placed his hands on his hips and waited impatiently for her to quiet. "You didn't let me finish," he said sternly. She had stopped, placed the shirt she had been about to hang back into the pile it had come from and faced him. "It's not like I talk with them or anything, but I do have imaginary friends. Take last night. Last night I was bored, and when I'm bored my mind usually wanders. Well last night, my mind wandered to you and I began inventing scenarios in my head. One of those was sort of an alternate reality where you and I had actually become friends earlier on in life. It was actually quite lovely and then I made myself believe – just for one moment – that it had been true, and I took comfort in what I felt." He had turned to hang up a brown sock.

"And what is that? What you felt, I mean?" She hadn't moved from her spot.

"Peaceful. At ease. Because, say, when you cry, well right now, especially the first time you cried, I had no clue what to do with you. See, I'm not good with things like this – I'm an only child, spoiled, and my friends aren't really the type to cry – so I obviously had no idea how to handle that situation. But in my mind, last night, I knew exactly what to do because I had known you for a while. And that made me feel secure, like I knew what I was doing. It was quite…comfortable."

Lily had continued to stare at him, but not one of those uncomfortable stares. She wore the look of someone who had just been impressed. "You surprise me, James Potter," she had resumed her duty, "because I frankly never believed you would be capable of thinking this way."

That had been one of the most pivotal moments of his week. James had discovered that Lily truly did not know a thing about him, nor he about her. So he now not only enjoyed the talks they shared, but also sought them out himself. And here he was, a full week after the campfire incident, and although it had only been seven days that he and Lily had been talking regularly, he felt like he had learned more in that short time span than any other year.

James, ducking behind a window panel, turned his head abruptly to seek out the familiar cluster of red hair. She was right behind him, a few feet off to his left. _Good._ He turned his head around to the right, resting his eyes on the bubbly boy called Matt, whom he had secretly named Bubbles. He couldn't help it, the boy's cheeks literally looked like two overstuffed bubbles!

Matt nodded his head once and then twice at James after which he nodded once in return. That was the signal that all was clear to go. Now, all they had to do was wait for the moon to reach right above their heads. James, having studied the moon numerous times before, knew that it would still be at least an hour and forty minutes before this would actually happen, but the three boys had insisted on starting as soon as possible. Lily's eagerness had actually been the convincing factor, though.

One hour passed and the three boys became restless. One of them (Alexander) actually resorted to combing his hair with pine needles; the other, Dorian, was counting something with his hands and toes, huffing loudly whenever he deemed it appropriate; Bubbles had taken to moaning and whispering frantically to James "How about now?" James, always having been something of a patient person (although no one ever really tested his limits – Snape didn't count, there was no fuse for that temper cracker, only instantaneous explosion) merely pressed his index finger to his lips. Bubbles did quiet, but only for a few minutes at a time.

James looked at Lily. Lily looked back at James. They held each other's gaze for a moment, released it only because of another persistent whine from Bubbles. James secretly cursed the boy. How could anyone be so restless? Not even Wormtail had ever complained half as much as this kid when venturing out on their outings. Then his mind drifted to the Marauders.

The full moon had passed already. James received a letter from Sirius and Remus through owl post today stating that everything had gone off without a hitch, and that next time, they suggest both Prongs and Wormtail join their two furry friends on a holiday to Rome to roam (Sirius' idea of a good pun) the streets at night.

Sirius. James missed the guy. He needed him right now to help keep those amateurs quiet. Despite his oddly careless and carefree attitude, Sirius did have a certain way with kids. After all, he **was** an older brother, though once he had been sorted into Gryffindor, their relationship had sort of deteriorated. Still, his experience with Regulus had given him a certain advantage over James when it had come to dealing with younger kids. James did bring it up once, but to no avail. Sirius had denied ever being thoughtful to "that lil' freckled bloke who just wasted three and a half minutes of my free time?" James had caught the pleased look on his face when Sirius believed he wasn't looking.

James wasn't stupid, he knew Sirius hid a lot of things from even himself. But if James wasn't stupid, well Sirius sure as heck wasn't either, and James figured he too had figured out that James hadn't been most forthcoming about some things concerning him. For one, the actual age of his mother. For another, James had never let on how truly enamoured by Lily he actually was. He also didn't let on that taunting anyone but Snape was stretching it a bit far. (Why did that git anger him so?)

James looked up at the night sky again and realised that over an hour and fifteen minutes had passed just by the location of the moon. He turned to Lily once more, catching her fiddling with the buttons on the front of her shirt. James smiled privately. She was really something to watch, something special to look at. She was always doing something, and when she wasn't, James loved to look into her eyes to try to dig out what she was thinking from them.

She looked up at him and shrugged her shoulders innocently. Her movements suggested that she was bored, but her face betrayed that notion. Her eyes were still ignited with excitement, her lips threatening to curl into an anxious grin. He smiled again, this time revealing it out in public. Lily cocked her head to the side. She was most likely wondering why on earth James Potter was smiling at her that way. She would not find out tonight, though, that her excitement made his stomach want to explode of glee.

Right on cue, figures appeared at the bottom of the road leading up to the humble white house they hid outside of. James sighed to catch the three boys' attention and pointed in the direction of the figures. The grins on their faces made all James' annoyance at them instantly vanish. It reminded him of the first time the Marauders had played a prank. The feeling these boys would experience by the end of their plan – the adrenaline kick, the fear of getting caught, the relief at a succeeded attempt – he knew they would most likely end up searching for that same feeling again every day of the rest of their lives. Heck, he had.

James nodded his head over to Lily once, who nodded hers once back. James turned again to Bubbles, who nodded his head three times. All was ready.

The three figures – two tall, one short – fiddled around at the front door which was actually out of sight for James. That is why he had stationed Dorian at a bush farther out of the side, so that he could signal to him when they had made it inside their house. Dorian stuck out both his thumbs. James nodded again. All was still good to go, and plan was so far well on its way to becoming a success.

The light in the room outside which's window James sat lit up. It was a small fireplace built in the far wall that emitted the faint orange glow. James heard muffled voices coming from inside. His heart sank. Slightly. He hadn't caught what was being said, but he knew that the voice with which the shorter (in other words younger) figure spoke was disappointed and extremely depressed. James smiled. All was working out as planned.

James turned round to Lily and motioned for her to get to work. Lily's part was crucial; he had given her as much as she had asked for without a second thought. Lily was one bloody talented witch and he wasn't going to waste her talent just because she was a first timer. He was confident, nay, positive that whatever he entrusted Lily with, she would uphold without a sweat.

The window slowly, silently, slid up, sending a whiff of chocolate cake straight in James' face. His stomach growled even though he had eaten three portions of stew and two slices of lemon pie. Cake always found a way to make him hungry…

Once the window had reached thirteen inches above the windowsill, it was James' turn to get to work. Lily motioned for him that she would hold up the window as he literally worked his magic. He enchanted a few home-made non explosive firecrackers to slide into strategically plotted out areas of the room. It was a tough job to accomplish, as the entire purpose was to make as little amount of noise as possible, yet still letting the crackers make some sort of sound during their arrangement to draw a little attention to the room.

James bit his lower lip, concentrating on the last firecracker to slip underneath the window. Ingenious, really, these firecrackers were. They would go off at the sound of glass breaking, though they wouldn't actually explode. Instead, sparks of light would fly harmlessly out of the top of the tube, accompanied by a loud sound that wasn't overly deafening, just enough to cause someone's cat to screech and jump out of the room. He smiled at his and Lily's invention. Really, they could be unstoppable together.

Again, James turned to Lily and smiled. That meant all was clear. They watched as a wizard in his mid to late thirties poked his head in the room. "Honey?" he called out. "Are you in here?"

"I'm right behind you," came the reply of a sweet looking witch also in her mid to late thirties. She was wearing her hat still, and looked so much like a mother that James almost wanted to run up and tell her. Almost. The plan was much more important to him, though.

Then the little boy came into the room, looking as gloomy as James had ever seen a young boy look. He felt sorry for him, kind of felt bad that his friends made him go through with this. They had neglected him for the past two days (part of the plan) and had completely ignored and rejected his invitations to go to his uncle's house for his birthday party. But, then again, what he was in for would be better. It would be one birthday this boy will never forget.

James whispered, "now," and both he and Lily pointed their wands at the boys to their right, mumbling something that sounded like '_levicorpus_' under their breath. Two boys went flying straight through the open window. James let Alex fall and immediately sent Bubbles through, meanwhile Lily broke a glass cup against the wood panels of the house. The effect was great. Green, red, blue, gold, orange, pink, and silver light erupted from the tubes, causing a great KABOOM to resonate inside the house. James heard the younger three (most likely disoriented) boys scream out "SURPRISE!" He took a peek inside and couldn't help but smile. It had worked. Their little stint had worked. And no, it wasn't the most elaborate plan anyone could think of, and it hadn't involved complex spells and magic (not counting the home made firecrackers, of course) but there was something really gratifying about seeing the kid grin foolishly as his three friends surrounded him and brought out their presents.

James got up, rubbed the dirt from the seat of his trousers, and walked towards his partner in crime. She had obviously stood up at some point during the surprise, for her seat was already completely dirt free (not that James looked or anything).

"That was great!" She said to him as they walked the long road back to his place. He wasn't able to apparate yet for reasons he still hadn't shared with Lily. Not that he was ashamed, he just didn't find it to be his place to be telling her.

He turned to look at her and agreed. "Perfect. That was absolutely brilliant."

"You're quite the planner, Potter," she teased.

But James, being him, accepted any compliment, no matter which form it came in. "I know," he said matter-of-factly, "and you, Lily Evans, surprise me."

"And why is that? Because I didn't mess anything up?"

James shook his head. "No. You are far too talented to have messed this up. No, actually, I just never really knew you had this in you. You're actually quite the natural, it appears…" He directed the most mischievous lop sided smile he could muster.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She pushed his face away with her hand.

"No reason…well, yes reason, but you will probably not want to hear it."

"No, tell me, I want to know." He couldn't refuse her for long. _Weakness number one hundred and two: Lily again, except this time, when she asks sincerely._

"You would actually make the Marauders proud."

"Maybe you and your friends can make an opening on the team, then?" she asked in what he recognized as her I'm-messing-around-with-you-to-confuse-you voice.

"You asked for it. I'll put in a request and next meeting, you will definitely be first on our priorities list." He bowed his head as though he were face to face with the kind of the universe.

"I expect nothing less than first, Potter, and don't you forget it!" He merely smiled. He knew she had said that out on a whim, but it only proved that indirectly she pinpointed him. She knew that she would be the first thing to come out of his lips the next time he would talk to his friends.

James blushed again at this point and hastily scratched the back of his head, pushed his glasses up his nose, and threw his hands inside his pockets. He felt Lily's eyes on him and was ever so thankful that the night sky didn't give enough light to reveal his very reddened cheeks.

He was twice as grateful a few seconds later when Lily hooked her arm in his and they walked the rest of the way to the Potter Manor (which was a good seventy three minute walk) in cosy silence.

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To my faithful reviewers:

NJ MacReiley - Thanks eversomuch. I only hope this update was soon enough for you.

Redbird-flying-away - Ah! I love that you LOVE it! ;o p

Freja - Really hope the story pleased you. Thanks so much for stopping by!

Nora17 - well well well, look who crawled into James' thoughts this chapter? The other two are kind of taunting me in the back of my head, saying "What about me? What aboutme?" Ahh, knowing me, this story'll end up being 111111 chapters long.

WitchyMage - Also hopin' the story suited your liking. Thanks for letting me know that you wanted to hear it, as it was proving most difficult to create the opportunity for romance or whatever you want to call it.

Weird Not Boring - I love your name! And thanks for the website, I put it in my favourites (now I just have to get my lazy arse over there and read what's there!). Unhappily enough, I do foresee with my Seer senses slightly depressing chapters coming up. (Of course I foresee them, I am writing them, right? hihi...okay hyper much?)

Hopefullly I'll have chs 9 and 10 up tomorrow before I go to work. If not, I'll get out of work early (cross fingers) and hurry on over to continue. Sorry again for the tardiness of my last 2 chapters! I really had expected them to be up sooner (ok it was only a few hours, but I'm sort of like Hermione that way- I make up a schedule and I usually stick with it. Deviating from it for unproductive purposes really unnerves me!) Okay, I've already said too much...


	9. 09 The Horse reprise

_A/N: _Sorry it took me so long to update. I am presently laying on a home made couch (a stuffed sleeping bag) on the floor of my living room typing on a really crappy computer. My neck is sore and the pain in it is only exceeded by that of my back.

I can't believe how many people are reading! Thanks for the reviews to all! (And to those who don't review, your input would be very much appreciated...but no one's forcing you to review...dum di da la la)

I actually started this chapter really earlier on today and found that that chapter I was writing was actually meant for later on in the story. It took me a while to figure out what exactly chapter 9 was meant to convey and I hope I got it right. And I think James and I have made some progress. I think I know what he wants now...I think. (He's still very confusing at times, though. Bloody boys!)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this story. In fact, I basically don't own anything, except for, maybe, the plot. If you are wondering who this all belongs to, my answer is: JK Rowling.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 9 - The Horse (reprise)**

Two weeks later, James Potter found himself sitting inside on a rainy day sitting on a deep purple cushion staring at the window ahead as the water slithered down the glass. _Rain, how soothing,_ he repeated over and over to himself until he had managed to convince himself. Not that he didn't like rain, he just didn't like it today. Usually, rainy days at home meant him and Sirius playing exploding snaps or just sitting around on the sofas drifting off to sleep now and again. At Hogwarts, rain meant flying. James loved to fly in the rain, not that it was anything romantic or sensual about it, he just liked climbing up to the clouds, pick a raindrop and race it to the ground (except he pulled up about five feet away from the grass). It was freefalling, complete weightlessness. Yet it was beyond that. A race is not just jumping and falling fast, it's a push, a ruthless battle for complete control over your body and broom. Racing raindrops was his way to experience the thrill of conquering a competitor that was unable to talk or hex or even control its own speed; the raindrop was innocent and had almost a childlike purity, but its pull towards the surface of the earth was merciless. James often looked to his challenger as an ideal. He believed that its incapacity to feel fear, to taunt, and to view itself as incompetent was what made it such a fierce enemy.

Today, unfortunately for him, there would be no racing. There would also not be any lazing around. There would be no exploding snaps, no lame jokes or anything remotely familiar to him. In fact, today would probably end up being the most disorienting day in all of James' young life. And all of this because of the stupid rain.

James, a few days prior to this particular day, had been talking with Lily about her family. She had recently taken to talking frequently of them – even her sister, the horse-like lady – as of late, and James, being the perceptive young lad he often claimed to be (when he wanted to be, of course), had picked up that her constant chatter meant that she was looking for closure. She wouldn't cry, no, she had stopped shedding tears over her parents' death. Instead, she would fidget with whatever object was in her hand, or she would nervously tuck her hair behind her ears. She wanted to do something that most likely concerned her sister, and James had not only detected all of this on his own, he had actually mentioned it to her. She had, of course, denied it all, although not an in-your-face sort of denial, but more of a timid one, like she had been caught with a cookie in her hand before suppertime, and instead of hiding it completely, she meekly held it out and hinted that it was for her friend or something.

Well, James had told her that he would share her cookie with her. Of course, he hadn't said it like that. No, James didn't mention a cookie, for it was his private simile. He had said, with a coy smile, had said, "Lily, if you want to go to your home to do something, you should." She had shook her head dismissively, passing it off as "Useless, a waste of time and breath." But James had already started to know Lily and her subtle attempts to shrug something important off as inconsequential. He refused to try to comprehend it however, as he had already promised himself before that any effort spent on trying to figure out women was futile. So James had smiled again, this time trying to appear serious and supportive while still maintaining that mutual feel of respect and friendship, and articulated, "You wouldn't have to be alone, I could come. That way, if anything gets remotely uncomfortable for you, I'll step in and switch the attention to me somehow." By the look on her face, James had guessed his face had been able to twist into the appearance he had struggled to achieve.

Despite her obvious want to have James accompany her to her home, she had persisted, insisting that he would be "wasting away a perfectly good summer's day." That's when he had resolved that they could go on a rainy day.

So here he was, on a rainy day, sitting on that deep purple cushion, inwardly cursing his Gryffindor-noteworthy loyalty to friends. Lily was upstairs in her room getting ready. His mother was contacting the Ministry to have them connect the Evans' fireplace to the Floo Network for the day. But what was most irritating about all this was that James' stomach was twisting and shrivelling at the thought of spending time alone with Lily and her not-very-gorgeous sister, who would most likely fight, or cry, or do some unfathomable thing girls tended to do together that would leave James both uneasy and extremely dim-looking.

A slight shuffle behind him alerted him to his sudden company. He didn't turn around, as he wasn't compelled to do so. Instead, he waited until Lily herself walked into his line of view to look up at her and nod his head in acknowledgment. _Such a petty attempt to distract oneself of the inevitable crash and burn of upcoming events. _He sighed inwardly. Maybe going with Lily wasn't such a good idea.

"So, you're positive you want to come?" she inquired nervously.

_No. In fact, I'm quite sure I want to stay here and wait for you to send word._ He smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, o' course. I suggested it, did I not? So why would I back out on you now?" He could picture himself jumping off one of the hoops on the Quidditch pitch at school and landing in the sand heap that somehow reminded him of Lily's sister. He envisioned himself dying there.

Lily seemed to relax at his words. It was a good thing, then, that he lied with ease when it came to being the supportive selfless b – friend. Friend. They were friends. At least there was that. So, he, James, was her, Lily, friend, and a friend in need needs a friend. And that was James. James was her…

"James? Come, your mum said all was ready, and I sort of want to get this over with right away…" she trailed off, not blanching like he wanted her to. Instead of being nervous, she now appeared self confident, in control. And yes, right now, she was in control – over him at least. He could never leave a friend high and dry. Gryffindors – nay, Potters – were not like that. Not like that at all.

He heard himself growl in his mind, though he knew he hadn't really growled. Why was he having such a hard time with this particular decision of his? Didn't he just tell Lily that HE suggested he come along to keep her company and so HE would not back out on her. Yes, yes he had just said that. He reasoned with himself that he had never mentioned gladly tagging along to her parents' house – her home.

He stood, shaking his left foot free of the cramp it suffered. "Let's go, then!" He put on a smile. He tried to make it a fake smile, but he couldn't. There was something funny about him privately arguing with himself about how unhappy it made him to go see the blonde thing Lily called a sister while Lily believed he had no trouble with it whatsoever.

She smiled back.

The Floo trip was nice. It provided a distraction for James. Not that taking a trip down the Floo network was anything new to him, quite to opposite actually, but the familiarity of the green flames swallowing up his form felt, well, nice. And he imagined it looked nice too, but that was only his inner self granting his mind an escape from the harsh reality of - what had Lily called her? P…Pina? No, it had a 't' in it. Pita. Pen...Penutia. No, Petunia. Yes, that was her name.

Stepping out of the fireplace and into the green carpeted living room of what was the Evans's home, James was finally able to trace why he was so engrossed in negative thoughts about this happenstance, this meeting, of sorts, between that girl and him. At first, it seemed a little illogical to him, but gradually, as he poked and prodded around in the depths of his twisted mind and heart, James uncovered the truth: he personally viewed Petunia Evans as a threat.

Why? Not because she was fairly unattractive. James' late aunt had been one of the most unattractive people in the world and he hadn't felt threatened by her. Then why? Maybe, maybe it was the fact that she was a Muggle. _No!_ his own head answered him. Muggles weren't much to be frightened about. Even if he wasn't legally allowed to do so, James could easily disapparate out of the home if Petunia tried any funny Muggle business. He was also a very bright, very adept wizard with impeccable reflexes and knew enough spells to not only protect himself from crazy delusional Muggles but also how to protect them against themselves.

As he stared at her abnormally long neck, her odd teeth and mat of blonde hair, James (shivered) and concluded that there was nothing imposing at all about the woman. Perhaps she was a bit snide looking, but beyond that, James found nothing intimidating about her.

"GET OUT NOW!" The shriek might have caused James' ears to explode had he not been so deeply absorbed in his own thoughts. However, it only snapped him out of his reverie and slapped him with the fact that Lily and Petunia had already begun arguing.

"I have every right to be here," Lily spoke with a deathly calm tone. James' arm hairs stood up. Being animagi sometimes helped him with instinctual things. The arm hair thing was an obvious sign that Lily was about ready to kill, or something to that effect, the next person who rubbed her the wrong way. Apparently, Petunia wasn't daft either and the purpleness of her face subsided into an angry red. She abruptly turned on her heel and exited the lounge with her nose in the air.

"Lily," James began, "I'm sorry – "

"Sorry for what?" she snapped. "That you came?"

He actually felt both offended and guilty at her response. Offended that she would ever think him in such a cowardly fashion and guilty that he, in reality, was being cowardly. "No," he replied softly. "I was just going to say that I'm sorry I didn't come in earlier. I mean, the entire purpose of my being here was so that you could avoid that." He meant it. He decided that he did. He also decided that he would henceforth direct all his attention to Lily (today) unless she demanded otherwise.

"Sorry then. Suffice it to say that I'm not feeling very patient right about now." James nodded in total understanding. Well, he thought he understood, but he couldn't keep thinking. He had to focus.

Lily brought him outside of the area where the green carpet was, and took him up blue carpeted stairs with a white wooden banister all the way to her parents' room. James noticed the carpet in this room was also blue. Then he realised he was staring at the carpets instead of Lily. _Focus!_

"You can come in," she said monotonously. He entered the room for one sole purpose: to uphold his promise to keep his attention on the red haired girl.

But stepping into the room of a friend's deceased parents whom he had never met proved itself to be more moving than he had imagined. The bed was made, the soft beige covers pulled tightly over the mattress, the mounds of pillows stacked nicely at the head of the bed. The closet door at the far end of the room had two doors, and one of them was just a crack opened. He found it odd. It was as if they still lived, as if Lily's mom or dad had just gone into the closet to retrieve something only moments ago. When James' father had died, no one had ventured into the things he had left behind except his mother. Going through his father's personal belongings had felt like an invasion of privacy to him and thus had not been able to help his mother sort out through things.

He wondered if Lily would have the same problem.

"Doesn't it smell good?" James nodded absently. "James, what are you staring at?"

It appeared to be like a photograph except without motion. It was odd and perplexed James, to say the least. "Is that you?" he asked, stepping up to the night stand on the left of the bed and pointing at the red haired smiling girl in the…well, photo thing.

Lily smiled. "Yup. And that's my Mum." James looked beyond the girl and into the eyes of the young woman behind her. He envied the youth of her mother. Although, now that he thought about it, young or not, her mother had died.

"She was very elegant," James pointed out. "Shame you didn't inherit that from her gene pool." He added that to throw her off, to tease her out of what could potentially turn into a crying fit.

"Ha. One for Potter, none for Evans. But we've only just begun, and heed my word, wizard, I will have my revenge!" She smiled at him and headed towards the closet.

He moved on to other furniture where more of those non moving pictures sat. He looked into the unfamiliar faces of Mr Evans and his wife holding a baby, then of only them together, then of two young girls sitting at a wooden table outside.

Then it hit him. Not a simple slap of the face, but a full out blow to his head. Realisation dawned on him like a speeding raindrop and James stopped breathing. He knew now, knew why he hated Petunia so before ever having stepped foot in this house. Lily – this was her home – and she might, well, want to stay here instead of the Potters'. Which was fine by him, as it was her decision, but he knew that, if Lily did, in fact, choose to spend the rest of her summer here then he would feel jealous of Petunia. So that meant that Petunia wasn't a physical threat to him, but rather, her role in Lily's choice was what threatened him. She could have been nice to Lily and invited her in for tea, sitting down with her and chatting animatedly about some childhood memories they shared together. Who would pick him and his old mother over that?

"What are you thinking about?" He jumped and shrugged at once. It was an odd combination but he managed it.

"I guess I'm thinking about your sister. Were you two ever close?" Lily placed her hands on her hips and glared into his eyes. He wouldn't dare even think of trying to push that conversation further.

"Come." She turned 'round and walked out the door. Lily was weird. And strong. He hadn't seen one tear fall from her green eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled patriotically.

He followed her to what was unmistakably Lily's room. It was a simple room with a small bed with soft yellow covers and white and sky blue walls and furniture. There were non-motion pictures scattered everywhere in her room. Photos of people James never knew existed. And, undoubtedly, every one of them were Muggle.

"My extended family, James." She had caught him staring at the photos again. He felt mesmerized by them. He couldn't help it. Wizard photos were magically enhanced to allow for motion. Thus, often, witches and wizards in photos could be seen waving and smiling, or dancing…but Muggle photos, they were, extraordinary. They captured one single moment in time and froze it. There was nothing moving, and what had been moving at the time was blurred out. There was nothing alive about it, except for that weird feeling of haecceity. He had always known that every breath one inhales is different from the others in the sense that time is linear and thus, everything you experience only happens once. Bumping into someone in the corridor in front of the one eyed witch may happen a hundred times between the same people, but every time will be different than the one before and the next. There was no such thing as duplicate happenstances, as identical occurrences. Everything happens one time, and that one time is now. Those pictures those Muggles took captured that very moment when something unique was happening and made it possible to view for centuries more. A wave of goosebumps tickled his spine. Here and now, that was reality, his reality, and his entire life existence depended on him living this moment.

Snapping out of his thoughts, James smiled at his own sense of acuity.

"You are sort of a spacey one, aren't you?" Lily asked mockingly. He guessed she had been trying to catch his attention.

"Sorry," he said pathetically. He wasn't sorry though, not even that he had broken his promise (yet again!). The feeling he had experienced was nothing to feel sorry about.

Lily turned around and led him out of her room, bringing along a large duffel bag. James hadn't the time to notice what it was Lily had retrieved from her room.

She brought him back to the lounge where, not only the fireplace but also Petunia sat waiting for them. Or just Lily.

"I'm leaving now, Petunia," Lily announced in a authoritative voice. "I have no time for your childish accusations and misinterpretations of my words. Good bye to you, Petunia."

Petunia looked about ready to take off her slipper and chuck it at Lily, but instead she turned her long nose slightly towards James. "What are you staring at? You filthy excuse of scum!"

James was officially aggravated. He couldn't stand when wizards and witches called each other Mudbloods, and definitely could not stand having a Muggle call him filth just because he was a pureblood. How bigoted of her! "Listen, you – you miserable Muggle." He glanced at Lily, whose mouth had opened as she had been about to say something. "I didn't do anything wrong to you, so leave me out of your grudge. And, actually, your sister probably didn't do anything wrong either so just relax. We're about to step into that fire and out of your life, so just, erm, breathe or something while we go along on our way."

"Tell your boyfriend not to direct his clumsy speech at me, freak!" Why did this Muggle have to make life so hard on herself?

Lily grabbed her wand. James knew the spell she was thinking of using, or rather, she was working on at the moment because of the way she flicked her wand. Her motions were so accurate, so precise…

"Lily, don't! You could get sent to Azkaban for that!"

"It'd be worth it." She hesitantly tucked her wand back into her pocket. No one noticed what Petunia was doing at this point.

"Nothing's worth living in close proximity of Dementors, Lily. You should know that they take their duty very seriously, and take great pleasure out of making those they guard suffer." He grabbed the pouchfull of Floo powder from his pocket and offered some to Lily. "I guess that's why you-know-who's got them to turn to his side. They share that in common."

Lily motioned for James to go in first. "Right. Go on, I'll be right behind you."

She wasn't right behind him. In fact, it took her half an hour before she stumbled into the lounge in his home. Her face was red, with a few smudges of soot.

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A/N : Tomorrow I will post up little notes responding to all who have reviewed. I just can't stand the torture of working on this stupid computer! The agony of old technology!

And a little FYI - Haecciety is a real word. Actually quite the fascinating word at that (one of my favourites). Here is the definition (from the Phrontistery):

**Haecciety** _hek-see'i-tee, n_ (Latin, from _haec_, this)

The aspect of existence on which individuality depends; the hereness and nowness of reality. First coined by the philosopher Duns Scotus, haeccietyis that sense one gets of being in the present tense, the pure experience of a single moment in time.

Beautiful word, isn't it?


	10. 10 Inner Maelstrom

**Author's Note**: Please please please forgive the lack of update! I was out at my friend's house (as school is starting for all my CEGEP-bound friends) and I spent the last day and a half with one of them, spending half of today with another, but I wanted to update just to let you all know that I'm still very much alive. I know this chapter's short, but trust me, next chapter will make it all worthwhile. Thank you again to every person that reads this, it means so much to me, and to those that review, next chapter I will write to each of you. For now though, I must get going!

**Disclaimer:** I do notown Harry Potter, his mother or his father, or anything else related to his universe.

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**Chapter 10 - Inner Maelstrom**

When Lily came home (for James now referred it as hers as well) she immediately marched up to her room and closed the door. When she didn't come out for dinner or breakfast the next day, James no longer doubted that something beyond horrible had happened between the sisters and Lily was too proud to ask for his help. So he decided to go up after breakfast and asked to be let in. "No," came a stern response and James, feeling rather dejected himself at this, turned and dragged his feet over to his resting mother in her study.

He confessed his suspicions that Lily was hurt by her sister and –

"James, dear, stay out of it, okay? Lily is not stupid. She knows you care very much for her and I am sure she will come to you eventually to help sort it all out. But for your own good, son, give her space."

Trusting his mother's feminine instincts (that he both envied and despised), and blushing slightly at the mention that Lily knew he cares very much about her, James ducked out of the room, got out his broom and cloak, and rode out over the forest. He badly needed to sort it all out himself.

His thoughts automatically sprang to petunia and nothing but hostility filled up in the pit of his stomach. Although she hadn't physically taken Lily from his mother and him, she had taken away her good humour, and that was as harsh a crime as any. He wanted to jump into the fireplace and pop out in Petunia's and scream at her until he was too exhausted to speak. He probably would have done it too had the Floo Network not been disconnected from the Evans'. He couldn't understand why she'd be so…so…such…a…such a horrible Muggle! A stupid, boring, mean and grouchy Muggle! What right did she have to treat Lily that way? Who gave her the okay to hate James – who had done nothing wrong to her – without having ever met him? Who told her it was alright to take out all her grief and anger on Lily?

James avoided tree branch after tree branch as he descended through the canopy towards his spot, his ground chair. As he sat down, a strong gust of wind blew his cloak open and James decided to tuck himself inside it like a blanket.

His thoughts drifted back to Petunia. She annoyed him just by being in his mind. Then something he had thought about previously came back to him. '_Who told her it was alright to take out all her grief and anger on Lily?'_ Grief. Anger. Had they not also been her parents? Had Lily stayed home after both parents had died to keep her sister company? No. Lily had returned to Hogwarts, had returned to a world where she belonged. This world, his world, where most had a sense of belonging, acceptance, of being part of the best kept secret in history. A secret Petunia was definitely not part of, her only association being that her sister ran towards it rather than her for comfort.

Now, it could be that James was only making these connections up in his mind to find a way to explain such unheard of behaviour. He really believed – wanted to believe in any case – that Petunia Evans was not just simply mean, that she had, not long ago, been fairly nice to Lily and her friends, and that only recent turn of events had affected her in a way that made her act this way. No one was naturally that horrible, were they?

Lily. Lily Evans. The red haired girl with the bright green eyes who always occupied his mind. He sighed. It was his obsession, a compulsion really, to think of Lily. They had walked in comfortable silence together not too many nights ago. Did it mean something? And what about the fact that she had locked her arms in his? Had that meant anything? "She knows you care very much for her," came his mother's words. "Too much," perhaps, he half spoke, half thought.

The feeling he had deciphered at the Evans residence came back in full force. And it angered him. It wasn't like him to be possessive. He shared everything with everyone! He hated keeping all his candies, gifts, and even shirts only for him. James had grown up with everything in abundance and thus he had always loved to share and give away anything that belonged to him.

_Ah, but Lily doesn't belong to me._ And that was in addition to the fact that Lily was , in fact, a person, not three hundred Christmas edition chocolate frogs or a thir black pair of trainers. Lily was a person with a mind and heart, not an objected enchanted to act as such. She wasn't bought or rented or stolen. And he knew this. He knew she wasn't his object. But it was difficult, so very difficult, to get that possessive feeling away from him. It wasn't too strong, but it made him feel stuck, sort of unable to move his neck or arms or legs…it made him feel sick and evil, almost like it was a hidden monster that, if released, would most likely be the death of harmony within himself (well, whatever little harmony lay within, for at this point, James was a very confused person). He sighed again. Lily was – is – his friend, like Remus, Sirius, and Peter. And if he doesn't mind them staying elsewhere, then why should it bother him if Lily went away to live with her only remaining family? He knew he was in denial – he had, after all, admitted to himself that he "cared" for Lily as more than a friend the very night his father had died. But did liking someone always feel this way? Jealous, always afraid that that person will deem you unworthy of their attention and leave you out in the cold?

Watching a spider work its web around a few nearby leaves, James pushed his mind away from Lily. There was something about that witch that he knew his young adolescent self could not figure out alone. So, instead, he thought of the only blood family he had left: his mother.

Again, James' emotions turned and twisted into a goop of random unidentifiable feelings until her face was clearly showing up behind his closed eyelids. Sympathy, empathy, restpect, love, sadness with the familiar dash of anger, though the anger he knew was clearly directed at himself. Why couldn't he say goodbye to her? Why couldn't he bring himself to tell her that he was alright and that all would be fine once she left and joined his father? She didn't deserve to be kept here, drowning in agony whilst he went off to school, playing around with spells and potions.

Come to think of it, it was unfair that any of them – any student, teacher or other person – were able to be kept in the safety of Hogwarts' walls meanwhile others were being killed, tormented to insanity, robbed of their identity; while people – Muggles and wizards alike – were deceived daily, while others were being blackmailed into becoming a dark, evil, feared witch or wizard.

James fumed at the injustice of it all. Some people were out there being hit every day with lethal spells, meanwhile others, others like him, were being kept safe in their mansions, in their offices, or on vacation. He felt disgusted with himself that he hadn't thought of it earlier, tat he had been so selfish as to worry about some school crush while there were people far better than he being killed for no particular reason. People were suffering, like his mother, whilst he moped about a girl, or the fact that someone used his broom without asking, or that Sirius would be buying his own place… Surely there was something he could do…he was quick with his wand and sharp on his toes, he was convinced that he could make a difference in someone's life.

If only he weren't so preoccupied with his own wasteful existence.

His stomach growled. It must have turned into dusk while he was busy inwardly screaming at himself. Mounting his broom, wrapping the invisibility cloak about him, James headed straight for the canopy and towards the flickering lights that indicated the presence of his home.

Dinner was quietly eaten. Lily still hadn't come out, and James was too cowardly (so he called himself) to talk to his mother about his inner findings. The corn was eaten quickly, tea slurped down even faster, and James jumped into the kitchen as soon as his mother had left with a smile.

_Fine,_ he thought to himself as he busily searched the cupboards for something, _Lily can mope but she _has_ to eat!_ Food was very important to James and thus should also be very important to everyone else in the world.

So he finally found food he deemed good enough to feed to a depressed young woman. He arranged a tray full of chicken noodle soup, a grilled cheese sandwich, some tea cookies, a pot of tea, chocolate cookies, and yogurt with a bowl full of strawberries and blueberries. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday and he figured he needed to incorporate at least two meals into his tray.

Then he went downstairs into his fathers dusty study and took out the largest encyclopaedia of transfiguration spells he could get his hands on. There, on page six thousand eight hundred and thirty one, he found his answer.

Committing the complex hand movements (displayed in motion in a diagram on the far right) and the words to complete the procedure in less than one minute, James leapt back up the twenty one off white carpeted steps and immediately grabbed the tray from the kitchen. He took the secret (not so secret) passageway up to the upstairs corridor carefully so as not to spill anything, and stopped in from of Lily's door.

With a complex flick of the wrist, six taps, a swish, another tap and an unvoiced Latin-based incantation, the items on the tray turned into molasses (which was actually supposed to turn to water except James had mispronounced the long a in the word by a short one!). James then pushed the tray under the two inch crack beneath the thick wooden door and, as soon as it was through, muttered the reverse spell. He couldn't see much, even lying on the ground, so he could only hope that McGonagall was right about him being somewhat of a natural in her subject.

Mission: Give Lily Food; Accomplished.

And so it went for another day and a half. James spent one day corresponding with Peter (he was about to go in to retry his apparition test) and talking with his mother. She claimed Lily had used the bathroom twice during the night which not only meant that she was eating, but also that she would soon be joining them in the lounge or lounging outside. James trusted his mother's female instincts again (bizarre women talents that he lacked the luxury of possessing for obvious reasons) and left trays every meal time, tea time, and his own appointed snack times, inside her room.


	11. 11 Plastic Green Gloves

**Author's Note: **Gosh, am I ever sorry for having taken so much time to update. Argh! I have a valid excuse though, what with it being Frosh Week at university and then work and then hanging out with those friends I will most likely never see again except for by chance at the nearby cafe. Right, anyway, the chapter below is okay in my opinion. Definitely not one of the best, but I was writing it half sleepily half not, and overall, it went where I wanted it to go, but I just don't think I got the feel of it right.

To all you fantastic people who reviewed - that means Queen of Duct Tape, WitchyMage, wizemunkee006, maraudersrock11, nora17, lily4477, you people make me come back to write instead of going out at night. Yay! To all those who read and don't review, I guess you're in there too!

Next chapter should be up soon! I just got my laptop and I'm obsessed so I'll be writing every chance I get!

Now, on to the formalities:

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would not have been typing up chapter 9 and 10 on a really slow, really old computer that bugs every five minutes. Trust me.

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**Chapter 11 - Plastic Green Gloves**

James sat on his bed leaning against the headrest, talking to a small mirror in his hands. If anyone were to walk in his room, they would be convinced that he was actually giving himself a pep talk. They would be…wrong.

"Trust me, Sirius, I think –"

"No James, we're not going to risk it!" The boy in the mirror, although he too had dark hair, was not James' reflection and Sirius was not the name of his schizophrenic other self. The boy in the mirror was indeed none other than James' best friend Sirius Black.

"Risk? You're not going to risk it? My, my, Padfoot, I never thought – "

"Prongs, mate, I know that to you it seems the logical thing to do and all but – "

James' ears began to prickle. That meant that he wasn't exactly angered, but he was getting rather annoyed. The solution he had come up with had been a thumpin' good one, anyone in their right minds would agree. Thus, apparently, Sirius Black was not in his right mind, as he saw James' plan as "too risky" as he had put it. They had been arguing back and forth about this for five minutes which, to them, seemed to have actually dragged on for three hours. But that wasn't what was bothering James.

The fact that Sirius rejected his idea on the sole presumption and, might James add, a false assumption, that the only reason James had come up with his plan was in order to get closer to –

"Lily Evans is our only option, Padfoot! She's got it in her, I know she does! When we were – "

Sirius rolled his eyes and sighed. Something seemed to be troubling him. Seemed to be. "Prongs, buddy, don't take offence but I honestly think you're letting your feelings about Miss Evans cloud your judgement. Yeah, she's a nice girl, and that's exactly it! She's nice! She'll most likely whine about what we do and report us and…James admit it, if Evans gets Head job, she'll make sure to make our lives a living hell!"

James let his tongue click. He could see why Sirius would think that. Even he had, at one point or another, been thoroughly aggravated at her attempts (and successes) to catch him and his friends in very suspicious situations. But even then, James spotter her challenging glares or the evil twinkle in her eyes. The combination of both was not something a good girl would normally do.

"Padfoot, I swear – solemnly so – that whatever you think about why my conclusion is centered about Evans is wrong. I am a professional; I do not let my little crush jeopardize our success. It's out last year – I want this to be perfect as badly as you do and Moony and Wormtail." He really hoped his friend's grey eyes would see reason. Lily was a jewel. She had it in her. She kept her nervousness under check, her noise to a minimum; she picked up on all her cues, not to mention her magical abilities rivalled all of theirs! And her speedy thinking combined with her quick wand…Lily Evans was the perfect candidate to join their ranks.

Sirius looked nervous. "Dang! Prongs, I gotta go! I'll talk it over with the other two and we'll sort this all out next time, alright? Send Mum my love, and Lily my – er – well send her a 'hello' from all of us."

Sirius' image flickered and faded, leaving James to stare at his own reflection. Tucking the mirror under his mattress, James leaned back and lay on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring up at his ceiling. Of course, it was a normal ceiling and, in the darkness, he couldn't actually see anything. But he didn't notice. No, James was too busy inside his own head to notice that his vision was swallowed by the blackness around him. He was too far into his own mind to notice a stream of dim light, and a silhouette, enter his room, only to be replaced by darkness again.

When he felt something sit at the foot of his bed, however, James pulled himself out of his deep contemplation and diverted his eyes to the dark figure.

"Am I bothering you?"

"No. Why?"

"I head talking through the door. Your second set of legs and arms and hair, it would seem." James smiled

"I was conversing with Sirius, yes "

"He left?" She obviously had no idea of how they had communicated.

"Yeah, he had to go," came his reply. It wasn't a lie, either, because technically Sirius did leave. He had even said himself that he had had to go.

"Good." That surprised him. How could Sirius leaving be beneficial to Lily?

"Good?" His voice was croaky. It embarrassed him to clear his throat for some reason, and so he struggled to silently choke back whatever it was blacking his vocal cords from sounding normal.

"I wanted to talk with you. Still want to, actually." When Sirius had annoyed James, it had been his ear lobes that had prickled. Lily's words, however, made the top of his ears burn.

"A long talk?"

"A long talk."

James scooted over to the far left side of his bed and tapped the empty spot beside him. "Better make yourself comfortable, then." She hesitated. Maybe she thought he would try something ungentleman-like, and as he was about to voice reassurance against it, Lily had pushed herself into the offered spot and lay on her back. Next to James. On his bed. In the dark.

"Would you like me to rack my brain for some small talk so that we can ease in to what's on your mind or should we get straight to business?" Oops. He hadn't meant to say it! He had thought it, but never would he have under normal circumstances, said it. His ears made a whistling sound that told him that he had ruined it. Lily would be angry with him for sure. Girls didn't like to be talked to like this. His neck grew above normal temperature.

She breathed. Loudly. But it wasn't quite a sigh. Just breath. "Petunia," was all she had to say. The way she said the name, the way her voice seemed to quiver, how she exhaled at the same time, all contributed to James' understanding. At least she hadn't been offended by his directness.

"You don't have to tell me what happened between you two. If you don't want to, that is. I mean, it's personal, right? So, just know that I'll try my best to decipher whatever it is on my own." It was the right thing to say. It was always most important to take all pressure off whoever is trying to talk. Especially after being locked in a bedroom for about three days!

"It hurt me. Beyond anything, you know. And I just didn't know what to do!" He breathing became heavy, and her voice hinted at hidden tears. "She was right, you know, and, and, and I...I…I just, I can't! …I don't know…"

James waited. Not for Lily, for he knew she wanted him to say something. No, James Potter waited for his brain to feed some very perfect and comforting words to his tongue. Apparently his brain was on vacation, so when none came, James muttered the first thing that his tongue pushed out. "I get mad when people say rude things to me. And sometimes, depending on who says it, I get offended. But when someone I know offends me or says something I would usually get ticked at, but I know it's true, then it's like everything caves in on me. I have…filters and dams around me that sort of protect me from out there, but when those words reach my ears it's like they echo and my dams crash in. But it's not their fault, it's my own! Because what they say is the truth. So all the anger and offence and…hostility is directed towards myself. I feel guilty and worthless and all." He hadn't a clue whether it had made sense to say that right then, or if he was completely missing the mark. All he knew what that it had felt appropriate when he was about to say it, but as soon as he had heard his voice, he had doubted his choice.

"What do you do to ease it?" She wiped her hands across her eyes. James didn't see it – his eyes were shut – but he felt it. He felt sad for her. But glad for him. Obviously he had been right in saying what he did. _Good job, self!_

He thought. Last time he had felt like that he had been in Dumbledore's presence. The old wizard had managed to zero in on James' weakness… What had he done to shrug it off? "For instantaneous and temporary release, I use physical force. I'll hit a bludger, I'll dig a hole, I'll punch my pillow, and it helps with the _umph!_ part. That urge you get to scream and physically destroy everything in sight eases off a bit, but I can still feel its core – my own shame and guilt."

There was a pause. Maybe his brain wasn't on holiday.

Lily's feet stirred. "And for permanent escape?"

That's when James opened his eyes and turned to face her. It was still very dark in his room, but he knew her face was also directed towards him. "That's the thing. You can't escape from it, Lily. You have to confront it, unravel its clench around you. In your case, it would mean to tell your sister she was right and then, well, do whatever you feel would be necessary to clear yourself free of it all." He hoped he was still making sense.

"Lily Evans never apologizes to Petunia Evans, James. There's a law out there somewhere against it." Lily's voice hinted at something like sarcasm, but James' mood had grown sombre and he did not quite feel like playing along.

"I never said apologize, Lily, but obviously you need to, as it was the first thing that came to your mind. Usually, first impressions are right."

"My first impressions were way off about you," she informed him. He blushed a bit. Not knowing what to respond, he replied with an "hmm".

Silence. Heavy silence. It wasn't loud, but it did crush his chest and made his arms extremely sore. Every breath was heard, a small move of his little toe could also sound like an explosion. It was too much for him, and he decided that if, at that moment, someone were to come along and offer him entry into Lily's thoughts in exchange for murder, James would have gladly sealed the deal. Without even thinking about repercussions. Did he say something wrong? Was he being too honest? Too forward? What had he done wrong to make her no longer want to talk? He was tempted to stick a feather in his hair, make unintelligible noises with his tongue and lips and dance with a metal chair. Anything to relieve him of this stress!

"I can hear your heart beating." Finally, she had spoken! Of course, it caught him off guard and he felt rather embarrassed, unsure what to retort for the second time. Something clever, something deep…

"Umm, well, you were making me nervous – "and that, ladies and gentleman, was when James' Potter cheeks caught fire. His voice had cracked. Not a slight crack, but the full upper super high pitched squeak pre pubescent boys make. He had gone through that a while ago! Why would it come back now?

"I see," _Damn girl!_ He shouted inwardly. She was mocking him! Just by the tone of her voice, he knew she was privately making jokes about him!

He decided to clear his throat. It would be less embarrassing than another one of those…cracks. "Rmm – hermm," his throat unblocked.

"Better?"

"Much, thanks." Very funny. Hilarious.

More silence. Even his brain was silent. How could everything be without sound Lily Evans was beside him, in his bed, instead of her room locked inside, and there was silence! They should be celebrating! They should be feasting, dancing, talking, hugging, and kissing….wait! No, hugs, okay, but no kiss. Thinking about kissing Lily Evans was danger. It would most probably lead into fantasies and boyish daydreams that James knew he could really do without for the moment.

"Your heart's beating fast again." Caught again. Darn! Why couldn't he control the beating of his own heart?

"Yes," he replied smoothly.

"Why?" Feigning innocence. At least he knew she seemed to be in a better mood.

Still, he shifted. "I'll give you two options. Option number one, I lie to you. Option number two, I tell you that I can't tell you." _Option number three: I show you._ NO! At least he had only thought it and not spoken it. That would have been worst than the little crack.

"Touchy topic, then?" He grunted. "Thanks James."

"For?"

"The food. You know, the door was unlocked the entire time. I thought you'd try to open it, but you never did." Ah yes, but he had been trying to be respectful of her privacy. Women! Why can't they just come out and tell you that they want you to come in their rooms and talk to them instead of leaving the door unlocked for you to discover on your own free time?

Again, he didn't know what to say. But he didn't want the silence. Too much silence had been had between them for a while. "Mine was too!"

"Huh?" That was the exact reaction he had to his own words. What was that all about?

"I mean," he stumbled through every last resort in his brain and found his answer. "It was and will be. Don't hesitate next time you want to talk about something. My door's unlocked." He added after a few seconds' pause, "for you." It was her turn to respond with an odd sound.

"Thanks, James." She thanked him a lot tonight. Must be because he was doing something well.

"For?"

"Your…I don't know, just, how you're always I guess in tune. You find ways to say things that at first I figure won't make any sense or relate to the subject and then it turns out that it was the perfect thing for me to hear, that I didn't want to hear it but because of the way you said it, I did. And then, since I heard, I automatically listen and then I'm forced to think about it. So, thanks."

He shrugged his shoulders. What was he to respond to that? Should he compliment her? Thank her? What?

"Lily Evans," well, that was stupid. It was definitely not what he had planned on saying (actually, he hadn't had a plan at all, so really it was no surprise that he had uttered her full name).

"James Potter." Ah. Clever.

"You know when my father died, Sirius came to the funeral. His mother hadn't really wanted him to, but he came anyway. He came for me. He loved my father and all, and respected him, but he came to keep me company. Apparently, I was completely out of it, though, and I didn't say a word to him. Do you know what I did?"

"No, but you are about to tell me, so there's no point in guessing." Ha ha, funny witch.

"I laughed at him. It was stupid, really. I just saw him walk up to me all dressed in black and I kept thinking 'Sirius Black in seriously back dressed in black.'" She laughed. Not a full out laugh, but a chortle. "I couldn't stop laughing. And I laughed and laughed and everyone at the funeral thought I was delusional, but it was Sirius – ever time I looked at him, I laughed."

"He must have felt pretty uncomfortable, huh?"

"I can't answer you that. I never asked him." It hadn't occurred to him until then that his friend may have taken offence at his out of control laughter.

Both seemed to lose themselves inside their thoughts – Lily with only she knew what and James with Sirius. Argh. It was a mystery to James how Sirius had never mentioned it to him. Perhaps it had been a silent agreement not to mention it. Perhaps Sirius, too, thought James was delusional because of his father's death. One day, they would have to talk about it.

"How many girls have you kissed?" Once again, completely unexpected. Lily's mind, James concluded, was even more scattered than his own.

"Six, although only two of those can be called "real" kisses. You?"

"None. But I've kissed four and a half boys. What's a 'real' kiss?" She turned her entire body and propped herself up on her elbow.

"Like, you know, open moth, full frontal snogging." And there went his ears, neck and cheek again. Hot as fire.

"Then I've only really kissed three boys. The other one was only a kiss on the lips."

"And half?"

"I was my first kiss. Really uncomfortable. Some boy from my primary school kissed me on the lips but I didn't know until he was halfway out the door."

"Hmm," came James' reply. Muggle first kisses apparently were identical to wizard first kisses. Children will be children was an actually valid statement. That thought really impressed James.

"When my father died, my boyfriend, at the time, came to his funeral. Dumb wizard just stood there and looked extremely out of place. So I screamed at him, I told him that he was stupid, a real jerk, and that if he didn't leave I would personally hunt down his future children and turn them into toads. We broke up after that."

"Really? Who would have expected that?" The sarcastic mood finally hit him. Now this was his comfort zone. Sarcastic, random, and pointlessness. He was an expert at these kinds of conversations.

"You know how sometimes you just don't know what to do, so you do the first thing that comes to mind?" she leaned in closer to him and so he turned his face towards her once more.

"Yeah."

"And you're unsure whether you mean what you say or do but it seems like the only way to draw the tension away so you do it?"

"Uh huh."

"I feel like that right now." Yikes! James swallowed hard. She was close to him, super close to him, in his bed in the dead of the night and she wanted to do the first thing that came to mind? Was she insane? Of course he'd want to kiss her! They had just been talking about kissing people and then she talked about boyfriends…he struggled to keep track of his thoughts.

He took his hands from behind his head and rested them on his stomach, leaving his head to sink into the pillow. "What? With me?" That had been asked innocently enough. So he thought.

"Yes. No! Yes – n – yes! With everything! With your mom, you, Petunia, school – everything!"

James smiled at her without having to think about it. Of course the smile was wasted to the darkness but he couldn't help it. Perhaps she'd want to play a prank on the house elves? "So let's do it! What do you feel like doing?" He was overly enthused and couldn't wait to hear what she had to say. There were a few moments like these from Lily that were never expected and every time they happened it made him wonder if even Lily was sure of whom she was.

"I actually feel like walking in on you doing something really embarrassing like…" James felt his cheeks blanch, "like scrubbing the toilette or something!" She sounded shy. Why? It took a while for the young boy to register what she had said. And, strangely enough, when he did, he was actually amused and agreed that it would be a great way to shake off the intensity of the conversation they had had.

"Wearing a big oversized pair of plastic fluorescent green gloves?" He made his voice slightly louder and let his excitement take over his tone. Not that there was something devious about the scheme, it was just oddly conjured, and there was something strange about it that made it both extremely distracting yet not completely overly embarrassing. It was the perfect plan.

"Yes!" she chirped in just as excitedly. "Exactly," he voice changed completely to a smooth and thoughtful tone.

"What? You don't want to do it?" He felt somewhat dejected.

Sensing it, she regained her previous excitement. "Of course! Go now," she proceeded to push him out of bed, "and I'll show up!"

James obediently left his room unsure why he was conjuring up a pair of oversized green plastic gloves he had once seen Rhett wear, all the while heading to the upstairs corridor bathroom. He felt his excitement drain away only to be replaced by humiliation. What had he gotten himself into now? Thanks to Lily Evans!

He knelt down on the cold cream coloured tiles on the floor in front of the toilet and stared at it. He had never cleaned a toilet before. Never. IT was gross, when you thought about it, and he officially never appreciated having house elves as much as he did now.

He heard shuffling behind him. He turned his body around to face Lily standing in the doorway and sat on his haunches, knees raised. She smiled warmly. "Exactly," she repeated in that same voice.

James grinned lopsidedly. "Well?" She took a step forward, closed the door behind her and sat, cross legged, in front of him.

"You actually got the gloves on and everything." She laughed a little in disbelief.

"Yeah, o'course! They make the scene worthwhile."

She smiled warmly at him once more, a sad-like twinkle in her eye. Or maybe it was just poor lighting? "Don't you feel stupid?"

He nodded. "Extremely."

"Then why did you do it?" James concluded that this entire episode had been Lily's idea of a test of character. Obviously, he had passed…or so he hoped.

"Well, you felt uncomfortable in my bed in my – er – room, and yet you didn't want to leave, and it would have been awkward for me to push you out so, I guess I did the first thing that allowed both of us to leave. Besides, I told you I'd do it and I am a wizard of my word." He smiled happily, almost cheerfully. He had made sense without trying to.

Her eyes returned the smile, though her lips never twitched. He tried to focus on her smiling eyes, but found his eyes falling back down towards her lips. Back and forth, back and forth from green eyes to pink lips bounced his eyes from behind his spectacles.

"What if, on three, we say the first thing that comes to mind?" she suggested at long last.

"One," he said, "two" she joined in, "three –

"I want to kiss you," said the deeper voice nervously.

"You're making me nervous," said the softer, more feminine voice just as nervously.

All the blood in his body rushed to his cheeks. They ached so much that he was sure they were going to explode with every pulse. How very stupid it had been of him to tell her that he wanted to kiss her. How very foolish and naïve indeed!

Lily only managed to smile. "You look sunburned," she remarked about his cheeks. What a great way to make him feel less embarrassed.

"How do I make you nervous?" It come more as an after thought.

She shrugged... Silence. Again.

James opened his mouth, considering his options. He could, for one, turn around and scrub the germ infested bowl behind him. Second, he could take off his gloves and retreat to his room. Third, he could say something. He chose number three.

"Are you feeling better?" Smooth. _Way to take attention off all the tension in here_…of course his own mind was being sarcastic with him.

She nodded, however. "Thanks to you." He smiled warmly, taking off the gloves.

"My pleasure," he added with a very sophisticated accent. Neither one moved. They sat, her cross legged and he with his knees up, on the cold tiles of his upstairs bathroom.

That was when James remembered his feelings for her. Not remembered in a way that he had forgotten, but rather, they just seemed to have been numbed by concern over her. Yet now that she felt better, his heart flipped and his mind wandered off to a place where it was only him and Lily. It only occurred to him after a few moments that now, here, right in front of him, was that world. His dream world was now his present.

Oh, now he fought a private battle. Should he kiss her? She knew he wanted to, and obviously he would have to lean in, giving her plenty of time to make up her own mind about whether or not she wanted him to kiss her. And whether or not she'd kiss back. He was still staring at her lips and eyes, stealing glances at her nose, the few freckles on her cheeks, her chin…It would almost be romantic of him, to tilt up her chin as he leaned in towards her and rest his lips against hers. It would be smooth, sly, worthy of fame and history books, so why hold back? He had caught her stealing glances at his lips, his eyes, running her green stare over ever flaw of his skin, every feature of his face. It was – and he was sure even Lily would concur – a very intense moment. His heart was pounding against his chest, his head was screaming something or another at him, and his lips longed to brush up against hers! But against the lips, a kiss would mean so much and so little. All at the same time, it would mean number three for him and number four for her. It meant he'd be looking for more, implying that he desired for her to kiss him – and thus longed for him – as well. And if she did kiss back, it meant that their whole perspective of their friendship would forever be altered. But he was enjoying this- these – moments with her and cherished them. It was so different to be with Lily, so nice…So what did he want? And, most importantly, what did _she_ want?

James decided himself by placing his hands behind him and pushing his butt up closer to where Lily was sitting. That made the foot of space close down to a mere four inches. His knees still up in the air; James placed one down, along with the opposite hand, and with the other hand, pulled her chin towards him. He wasn't surprised when she obliged, although part of him wanted to be. After a moment like what they'd spent, there was no way either of them would have pulled away.

James leaned in carefully, slowly, calculatedly, eyes fixed on her lips, spontaneously bouncing back up to her eyes, which had now grown softer. Her pupils had dilated, informing him of her alertness, that he had her full attention. He smiled slightly as he brought her chin closer, as she smiled back, as she closed her eyes as soon as his eyes were a few centimetres away. He kept his eyes open, despite the strain on his already weakened eyeballs, and brought his face closer and closer and poast her lips. He brought his lips to the part of her face where her cheeks joined her ears. He pushed her cascading red hair out of the way first and softly passed his lips in that aread until he found the perfect spot, in front of her ear lobe. That's where he pressed his lips softely against her skin. That was James and Lily's first kiss.

It was small, short, sweet, but what happened afterwards was always a possibility, but had never occurred to James as being a probability. Lily proceeded to wrap her arms around James' back from underneath his arms and leaned into him. She buried her face in his chest, to hide herself from his view, but James knew from the shaking of her shoulders that she was desperately trying to prevent herself from crying.

He was desperately trying to prevent his heart from leaping out of his ribcage.

"My door's always opened for you, Lily. Always," he whispered as he wrapped his arms protectively about her. He would be whatever she wanted him to be, however, whenever, for any reason. She needed him just as bad as he needed her. It didn't matter to him that theirf first kiss was on the bathroom floor, in front of the loo in extreme close proximity to fluorescent green gloves. It didn't matter that she hadn't kissed back or even mentioned the kiss. All that mattered was that something was still troubling her and that she was looking to him for help.

He would provide that help as long as he held a breath in his lungs.

Time passed by unnoticed. James had not let go of Lily, though her grip had relented slightly. She had lost her father, then her mother, and her sister hadn't made it easier, and now, after a year of loss, Lily had James Potter, Gwendolyn Potter and soon – at least he hoped – she'd have the Marauders. After all, they were not only just four guys who joked around every chance they had, there was also that feeling of belonging that they seemed to have together, that bond that existed between them that James knew no one else had, no one else could have, unless, of course, that person was Lily.

This made him think. What about Lily's friends? He'd never been interested enough to learn their names – first or last – all he knew was that Lily had close friends. A few of them. So why hadn't she gone to their houses? Why hadn't Lily owled them and cried on their shoulders? Why him? Not that it wasn't welcomed, it was just…curious is all.

Then he remembered her falling out with her boyfriend at her father's funeral and wondered if that had perhaps happened with her friends. Not that Lily was evil, but, she had probably felt claustrophobic after her last root had been pulled. Seventeen was, after all, far too young to be losing both parents. Far too young.

Lily pulled back and clear the sleep from her eyes, then brushed the hair from her face. James kept his arms around her, though he did loosen his grip. He watched her and lowered his head so that his eyes were even with hers. He was about to voice his concern, but her reassuring smiled came first. He wanted to push, say 'are you sure?' but she nodded gratefully and shrugged it off. Wow. They had had an entire conversation without a single word.

If that wasn't a strong bond, then James wasn't sure what was.

"It's late," she whispered. He nodded. She stared at him. Ooooh! That was meant to be his cue!

Standing up, James offered his hand, which she took, and he pulled her up to her feet (with a mock groan). She raised an eyebrow. He smirked.

"Bed time?" he asked.

"Bed time," she asserted. She took his hand and tangled her fingers into his. That surprised him. But more than that, it made him happy. So he walked Lily to her bedroom door, hand in hand, inwardly cursing how incredibly cheesy this all felt. He was James Potter, one who prided himself on originality. How dare he fall into the cliché?

But, then again, wasn't it also cliché to resent being cliché? Scared that he would actually confuse himself too much this late at night (or early in the morning, whichever way one preferred), James cleared his mind of all thoughts when they stopped in front of that familiar door. It wasn't closed, as he had seen it for the past couple of days, but rather there was a three inch crack between the door and its frame.

"Thank you, James, for everything." He took her other hand and they stood looking at one another.

"Honestly, Lily, there's no need to thank me. I'm just glad I was able to be there for you when you needed me." He got nervous again. Why would he get nervous now?

"If I'd have known, James Potter, that you were as kind as you are handsome, I would have accepted your offers sooner." She smiled-laughed, a gentle mix of the two. James felt his ears prickling again.

"My offers still stand, you know," he informed her in a very posh tone.

"Nice, Potter, very romantic –"

"What? It wasn't romantic!"

"Exactly."

"You want me to be romantic?"

"Do I?"

"I don't know, do you?" He was losing track of the topic. They were arguing – playful banters someone once called it.

"You tell me. Do I want you to be romantic?" James tried to concentrate. Did Lily Evans appear to be one of those 'sweep me of my feet' kind of ladies. No, no she definitely would not want a candlelit dinner or a walk along a white sandy beach. Since that was what his brain told him, James only ignored half of what it said.

"Sort of. I think that, as long as I try, it'll be perfect for you." He felt her hands turns cold. Nerves. He wondered whether it meant he had been dead on target.

"Umm, okay, good answer. Score: James 1, Lily none."

"And what about me, Lily? Do I want to be romantic with you?" He cursed himself inwardly. Did he honestly expect her to answer that?

"I don't think you know the answer to that one, James."

"Touché." She laughed. He laughed because she laughed. Then she laughed some more causing him to laugh harder.

And then the laughter subsided and died out. _Bizzare_.

"Lily?" they were still holding hands, standing in the dead hallways in the midst of the night, outside of her bedroom door. Why nothing was happening was completely beyond him. Not that he figured that as soon as he and Lily got together they'd immediately start snogging. Actually, since they learned to be civil towards the other, James' idea of the relationship between Lily and himself had drastically changed. He now expected more than snogging. He expected – gasp! And he knew he'd be made fun of if anyone were to find this out – meaningful gestures and conversation, the odd peck and some very warm, very comfortable embraces.

"James."

"Don't move!" he squeezed her hand reassuringly and bounced away from her until he reached his bedroom. Digging through his closet, in the dark, James felt around for – ah – there it was. It wasn't romantic, he knew that, but at least it'd be something.

He came back, heart pumping fast from his run, and placed himself in the same position he'd been in before he had left. Lily lifted her right eyebrow quizzically at him, before he placed what he was holding into her hand.

"Er – James?" she brought her face closer to it, trying make out what it was.

"A token."

"For what?"

_My undying love for you_ was his initial thought, but knew that it was disgustingly overly cheesy and worthy of a shovel on top of his head. He could imagine a large black fly swatter hitting him right above the neck. It was stupid. "For – as a promise."

"A promise?" she asked in very uncomfortable disbelief.

"You'll see – you'll understand eventually. Just stick to your ticket, Lily Evans, that's the best advice I can give you." He didn't need light to see the very confused expression on her face. Granted, he'd have loved to see it, but just knowing he was stumping her was great enough.

"Alright, then," she was beyond perplexed.

"Right, good night Lily Evans," he leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead.

She snickered. "Good night James Potter, you bizarre git!" He laughed.

"You have no idea," he whispered as he squeezed her hand and let go, slowly making his way back towards his bedroom. "No idea at all."


	12. 12 Perfection

**A/N: **Yay! A decent sized chapter that was put up less than three days after its predecessor. Although I do question the quality of the content (please feel free to criticise! That's what the review button at the bottom of the page is there for! Remeber, I can't fix the problem unless you tell there is one!)University has started (gasp!) and I'm really hoping to finish Summer's Breath before I get too much homework. I'm not sure if I'll continue on afterwards with a sequel, you will have to let me know (especially after reading the last chapter, which is planned and half written already, as some of you may know).

To the reviewers - Queen of Duct Tape - You will know the answer to your question at the end of this chapter, although I cannot reveal what it's for! The gloves you described were the ones in my head! I'm glad you pictured them the same! LOVE your randomness - I guess maybe last chapter was a bit scattered like that, but hey! It's a reflection of the workings of a regular teenaged mind!

Liveontheedge - I'm really glad you stumbled across my story since I really loved your review. Hopefully I can live up to your expectations and can continue to do whatever it is you find appealing about this story.

NJ! - Always the first to review a new chapter. I really adore you, you know that? ; -P I'm super glad you liked 11, and I hope you fancy 12 just as much!

And although you technically haven't read this far, one day you will and so dreamergirl86 I want to say thank you and I can't wait to hear what you have to say about the rest!

**Disclaimer: **I have officially run out of creative ways to inform you that I do not own the Harry Potter series. It's a sad world because of this, I know, but hopefully next time I update I will be able to tell you of a tale about a farwaway bean that dreamed about a life where I owned Harry Potter...or not!

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Perfection**

Perfection. That was the one and only word James needed to describe the days between the last and next mirror meeting. That isn't to say that butterflies had invaded his dreams or that his mother had gone without a few more attacks. No, all that usually happened, happened, the only difference was that this time, James felt prepared. Yes, he still found it difficult to see his mom on the bed, screaming in agony. It's just that afterwards, James would go see his fast-becoming best friend, and they would talk about Gwendolyn's episode. James would let everything out, then they'd move on to other subjects.

His fast becoming best friend. James often thought about how he felt about Lily, especially now that they were getting closer, not only in their newfound 'romantic' relationship, but also in their friendship. It was weird, odd, indescribable really how he felt around her. He often thought about Remus and Sirius and Peter and how they would react once he told them that he was finally seeing Lily, and that they were doing things the 'right' way. He wondered if they would be envious of what he had found with this green eyed witch, or whether they would shrug it off as something unworthy of mentioning more than twice. One thing was for sure, though, and that was that James didn't care much about what they would do, he only cared that they would accept Lily the same way they accepted Remus.

One of their favorite topics to discuss, well for James anyway, was Lily joining the Marauders. He almost had her convinced – almost – but there was something that was obviously keeping her away.

"Why do you suddenly want me to join your group?" she had asked accusingly.

"Well, you are, sort of, my girlfriend and all," he had replied uneasily. Nothing had been made official yet, they only sort of sat close together on sofas and they would often hold hands, but nothing had been said about them being officially together.

But after hearing what he had said, she had blushed at his response. At least she hadn't objected. "So? That doesn't mean that I will become best mates with your – er – group!" She was right, of course. Girlfriends were technically forbidden from becoming Marauders, a rule established back in first year. No dating the inner friend circle. Of course, back then, the circle of friends had been slightly larger with at least three girls rounding up the Marauders, but as time had moved on, so had the girls, and the boys were now alone, which they rather preferred. They had concluded that by dating a member of the group, it would be a direct danger to the group harmony and, if a breakup would ever occur, then the group would have to take sides and it was just too much strain to put on their bond.

Ironically enough, that very conversation had also been Mrs Potter's discovery of James and Lily's blossoming relationship. At dinner that night, she had questioned them about it. Ah, she hadn't directly come out and said "You two are dating," but she rather conversationally cornered them into admitting it on their own. Her face had brightened in a very innocent glow as she watched James take Lily's hand underneath the table 'secretly' while he said in a very nervous and uncomfortable way, "I guess Lily and I are sort of, together…in a -err – romantically –"

"What he means, Mrs Potter, is that we're dating." It was so very like Lily. Send subtlety to Azkaban, come straight out and declare it! She was his mother, for Merlin's sake, not a school friend!

Then had come his mother's response. "It's about time you both got your acts together! I figured you'd start dating at _most_ one week into the summer but 'lo and behold! A month later and it's just happened!" She had smirked in that way that all knowing experienced people do.

She had also spent a lot of time talking to Lily. Sure they had been close before, but James figured that his mother, who had never had the opportunity to meet one of his girlfriends before, was now making up for it. James hadn't a clue what they would talk about or do while they were alone together. Sometimes Lily would say things that scared him, things that hinted she knew about certain things no one was supposed to know but his Mum, his Dad, and him. Obviously, he concluded, his favorite Mum had turned into a busy storyteller as of late.

It didn't bother him…much…that Lily spent a lot of time with his Mum. It actually made him smile. His Mum, who had always been surrounded by boys – him, his father, then Sirius – now had a girl to communicate with, and as much as he knew she loved him, James knew that his Mum would have loved to have had a girl as well. But she had been stuck with James and Sirius…and no one really wants to see those two in a dress. Well, hopefully anyway.

What bothered him about their time together was that that meant less time with him. Sure they invited him to join them but he just felt awkward knowing that it was special bonding time between Lily and Gwendy and that having James (who's nickname did not end in "y") in there would sort of be an intrusion on the feminine bonding. So he respected their time together in hopes that when would come the time that he would partake in male bonding that they, too, would respect him and his friends.

Now James sat on the upstairs balcony looking out over the estate. He was trying to figure out if, when his mother would pass away, he would keep it for himself or sell it or turn it into something else. It would be a waste for him to live in it alone, especially that it was so far away from everything else, which, on the other hand, does have its benefits. He stopped his passing glare and fixed his eyes on the dark figures in the garden. Gnomes. He would most certainly have to get those out tomorrow…

Thinking of his mother's death had now become easier as of late. Ever since he and Lily had had a talk about it. She had demanded to know why it was his mother wouldn't just pass away. James had refused to talk about it. What had been said the night his father died had been a secret, a family secret, and although James liked Lily very much, she still, to him, was not Potter-y enough to know the Potter secret. Except the thing with Lily was that she never took 'no' for an answer when she knew hearing 'yes' would suit everyone tenfold better.

"James, your mother's in pain, you know, much more so than my father was, and he suffered for a long while, and all you can do is say, "I don't want to talk about it"? Why not?" She had folded her arms across her chest and had stared at him in a way that had made him feel both inferior and unworthy. It had been an eerie feeling, one that he would not want to experience too often in his lifetime.

"Lily – " he had started but never finished for the sounds coming from his mother's room made him jump and run down the hall to fall in beside her, whispering encouraging words to her once more, holding on to her hand when she held it out for him to hold.

"I love your mother too, James, just know that," she said as she stood in the doorway probably watching him stroking his mother's hand with his thumb. She had stood there for quite some time, actually, and normally James would have been very aggravated. Why would she just stand there? That was what he figured he should have been thinking.

Instead, however, her words kept echoing in his head, almost like a ringing in his ears that didn't want to go away. "I love your mother too, James, just know that." Of course she loved his mother, he never doubted that she did. Even if they had only known each other for a limited time and had already disputed once, he knew that they had grown much closer than he had ever thought possible. His Mum had accepted Lily just as easily as she had accepted Sirius, along with unconditional love. What a mother he had!

Something in his stomach had clenched then and he had felt as though someone had dropped a red hot ball of glass on his stomach and it had been absorbed by his skin. It hurt badly. He looked over to Lily. He had understood what she meant, but did she have any idea about what she was saying? Did she really know and understand what was happening?

She had kept a steady gaze towards him. It was a gaze that told him to think about what was happening, a piercing look that let him know that she had seen everything inside of him and that she was now planning on letting him do something about it. It had been confusing, really, in fact he was still perplexed about it all four days later.

He was sitting on that balcony, waiting for Sirius or Remus or Peter to call upon him on the mirror. The end of summer was fast approaching. His father's birthday hardly a week away. Sure he had spent a very good summer so far, probably one of the best most emotionally gratifying he had ever had, except, a part of him longed to have Sirius come back. He missed him, missed being able to talk to him about things that were irrelevant, such as McGonagall's hat, and yet still manage to talk about that for at least fifteen minutes before remembering how stupid it was to even be thinking about her hat!

Another reason why he wanted to see Sirius so badly was to be able to formally introduce him to his girlfriend. Yes, of course they had met before, but never had they given each other more than a glance or exchanged a few – erm – shall we say not so polite words? He laughed to himself. They would have to get along together, just had to. Lily was going to be Head girl, Sirius would need her to leave Hogwarts as a Legendary King of Pranks and James needed Sirius and Lily to get along so that he can live happily ever after in the midst of his favorite people. He did not worry much about Remus, he was a nice guy who wouldn't really voice strong opinions in the proximity of anyone, and Peter, well, Pete would accept anyone and anything that he and Sirius would accept. That was just the way things worked.

"Prongs?" Ah, at long last, the voice he had been waiting for came from the small object in his robe pocket.

He scrambled around, trying to get a good grip without poking his friend in the eyeball, and placed the mirror in front of him. "Padfoot." It was a happy greeting for he had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

The grey eyes looked suspicious. "What have 'ya had to drink, Prongs?" he asked jokingly. James had to admit to himself that he hadn't exactly been joyful during their last meeting.

"Ha, a nice cup of mint tea. You?" he winked at his friend.

"Nothing yet," he replied somewhat somberly. "Mrs Lupin's busy chatting with the neighbors right now. We haven't even had supper yet, James! I'm flipping out here, about to jump off my rocker! I can't wait until next week!" He had a smile on his face. That meant only one thing: trouble.

"I got everything ready. No need to fret about anything. Just make sure you all get here safely." It had been months in the works. He had, of course, completely forgotten about it what with Lily happening and all. But he felt confident that by tomorrow, he'd have all the supplies needed for next week and the week after.

"That's my boy," he mimicked James' Mum's voice. Then his face went serious. "So, any leads on Lily? You got that idea in my head, you know, and I've been altering some of the plans to kind of get around the fact that she won't be in our dorm or anything, and –"

"I believe everything will be great. I actually don't know if we'll need to Marauder-ize her either." He smiled as though Lily had just kissed him.

"Uh erm, James? Quit that please! I'm not liking the look – no, Moony, you should see! He's looking at me all odd –" Sirius was cut off and Remus' face popped up into the mirror.

"I take it things are going well then James ol' friend?" James nodded. He wanted to burst out in feminine giggles and tell them about the bathroom scene, the fact that he had kissed her, that they were regularly holding hands and they hugged each night before bed. But he couldn't. It would sound too prissy, and, let's face it: James did not want to appear like someone's lovesick puppy.

Sirius took over the mirror again and he glowered at his right. He grunted and turned back to James. "So, moving on then, how's Mum?"

James' eyebrows twitched. "She's all right. Same old, same old! You know Mum!" his hands had grown sweaty. Why would Sirius ask about his Mum? Did he know something about anything? _Cool yourself, James, it's just normal regular, every day talk. Sirius is not conspiring against you._ He repeated that over and over until he felt confident enough to continue. "She can't wait to see you, actually, although she is getting along just fine with Miss Evans." Playing it cool was always the best thing to do around mates.

"That's hem, hem, interesting enough Prongs, but dinner's almost on. Listen, I just wanted to tell you that, well I think I found where I'm going to live. But don't worry, nothing's set for sure. Alph would be genuinely proud of what I found actually." He seemed happy with himself, but James felt what was a twinge of jealousy…or something like it. He'd have to think about it later.

"That's great, mate, really. Can't wait to see it actually. Um, tell Wormtail I say 'hi' and that I passed it too, so now we can all go out together," it was really no big surprise that he had passed his test two days ago, but still, he wanted to remind everyone that he had indeed passed. Not for praise, as would usually be the case, but rather as acknowledgement that they were all officially back on the same level. No one had more privilege than the other. The Marauders were now on the same step.

"Great. Finally! Hopefully you learned your lesson!" James shrugged. Of course he'd learned his lesson, but it didn't mean he wouldn't redo it. He was stubborn that way. Not that he hadn't smacked himself over the head about it repeatedly, of course he did. But, he had also been relieved to see Peter's grateful face after James had told him he'd also failed it.

"Right. Go eat now, I'll talk to you soon."

"Right. Until later, then." The light flickered and Sirius was gone. James concentrated on the feeling he had gotten when Sirius had told him about the place Uncle Alphard would be proud of. He wasn't jealous, he couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Sirius? Sirius always wanted to have his own home, James had always thought of Sirius as an independent person. He was never one quick to obey authority, having always rebelled against any rule set in front of him. It was just the way Sirius handled things. So if he wasn't jealous, perhaps he was envious?

Well, he would envy his freedom, that's a given. Although, thinking about it, he quickly changed his mind. Staying with his Mum was definitely better than having to find your own house elf to do your bidding, although, with the way Sirius' house elf had made him hate all of its kind, James assured himself that Sirius would not be hiring any elf any time soon.

And then James laughed. _Sirius cooking his own food?_ The thought sounded funny, foreign and even silly. As if Sirius could manage that! Sirius had a hard time waking up in the morning to help James de-gnome the garden. What would he have to do if he had to wake up early to make breakfast?

Ah, but there was the catch. He would get to decide when he wanted to wake up, if he wanted to de-gnome a garden, what else he would do with his day, if he would help anyone peel potatoes. He wouldn't have appointed chores; Sirius would be allowed to turn his place into a pigsty if he wanted, as it would be his place and no one would be able to tell him otherwise.

Liberty. Perhaps that's what was affecting James. Perhaps he also wanted to have that certain liberty of being able to do as you pleased when you wished and however you wanted. No, James again, changed his mind. He liked to rebel, but he also enjoyed conformity. Granted, he had always seen himself as the opposite of Sirius: he liked responsibilities, enjoyed the feeling that he had to carry around other people's weight on his shoulder, enjoyed getting recognition for it… Basically, James knew that the feeling he got whenever he was placed under a tremendous amount of pressure and that somehow he managed to get not only himself but Sirius, Peter and Remus out of trouble (along with whoever else may have been involved) was the best feeling in the world. That and when Lily hugged him.

His thoughts drifted to Lily and he 'hmmm'ed. She, to him, represented everything Sirius resented: commitment, the prospect of responsibility and a potential (gasp!) family. Not that Sirius was a womanizer of any sorts; on the contraire, Sirius never really bothered himself much with women. He had claimed a long while ago that although he liked girls and fancied a few of them, he was not a believer in love nor in relationships. He figured that girls were not only a waste of time, but a waste of freedom. He respected girls as much as he respected James and himself (which is saying a lot), but he also couldn't stand their giggles, their batting their eyelashes at him. Of course, during his pubescent years, all the female attention had made him feel quite important and special, but ever since he had run out on his own family, Sirius had grown tiresome concerning all the attention he received from the Hogwarts' female population.

James smiled at that. He had been rather jealous of Sirius in their younger years. Not that James wasn't handsome; he was just less so than Sirius. Girls paid attention to James because he was on the Quidditch team, because he was the co-leader of his gang, not because he was the best looking. Yes, for a while he had lusted after the same attention Sirius would get – he even tried growing his hair longer to see if it would fall as gracefully as Sirius, and, of course, that project had been a total failure! – and, although he never admitted it, James had sometimes neglected his best mate because of it. He couldn't understand why the grey eyed boy would just shrug off each girls' attempt to 'date' him, not that he hadn't had a few flings, but he always preferred the single life.

Then James had gotten this longing for something more. He had realized that, to him, a fan club would never be enough. James had concluded that his life was meant to be meaningful to someone else, and that someone else would be the person he would spend his entire life with. Which is why he had had fewer girlfriends than Sirius or Peter. He may have had less than them, but he had stuck with one girl for a long time, and then another for a longer period! He preferred long term relationships to short meaningless ones. Sirius, of course, didn't like the term 'relationship' and Peter was most definitely used to get closer to Sirius. At least, that's how James saw it.

Remus. James turned his face back towards the dark mirror showing him his own face and the stars behind his head. Remus was such a shy boy, so hidden, so complex and simple all at once. When he and Sirius had found out about his 'condition', Remus had been petrified. He had claimed that he hadn't told the others because he had feared their reactions! Ha! As if Sirius or he would have backed out or have been scared of him. The Marauders prided themselves on their fearlessness (some would call it recklessness) and they would certainly not give up the chance to wander around with a werewolf. Peter had been hesitant when it had come down to it, but he had quickly gotten over his fear of Remus. Apart from them, however, Remus trusted no one with his secret. He would almost convulse at the mention of anyone else figuring out that he was a werewolf, and James was sure he would die if he accidentally bit someone during their treks. It was a risk they were willing to take, for now anyway. It was better for them all, reassured them of their friendship and their bond, when they would strut in the moonlight in their animal shapes.

For this reason, James figured Remus would probably never settle down with a ladyfriend. He would feel guilty about something he had absolutely no control over. Remus was not comfortable in his skin, that was evident enough, and Sirius and James had sort of embarked on a silent and secret mission to make their friend with the 'furry little problem' accept himself and see himself worthy of anything and everything any normal wizard is entitled to.

"James?" James tucked the mirror in his pocket and turned around to see Lily standing in the doorway. She smiled at him warmly and sat down next to him. "I thought I'd find you here."

"You did?" He wondered why. She only nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. "How's Mum?"

She yawned and replied (almost unintelligibly) "She—aaa is fiiaaaaanne." Pause as she finished. "She's reading now, something about some wizard or another. It's quite fascinating, actually. I read bits and pieces of it and I think you'd even like it."

He grabbed her hand which she was resting against her knee and put his own hand around it. "Sure." He preferred informational books, books that would teach him things like how to make a mandrake go mute for all of eternity…how to defend himself against dark spells, and how to understand the way witches thought – oh wait, no, he had given up on those!

"What were you doing out here before I came?" She took her other hand and placed it on top of James'.

"Just thinking," he replied as he took his other hand and dropped in on top of hers.

"About?" She took her hand (which was now at the bottom of the pile) and brought it on top of his.

He wondered if he should tell her the truth. "My mates." His hand was now freed from the bottom of the pile of hands.

"What about them?" She was back on top.

"Just thinking about how they'll react to you." It wasn't a complete lie. He had planned on driving his thoughts to that track until she had cut him off.

"And how do you suppose they'll react?" It was a curious inquiry. Lily was never one to care much about anyone's reactions.

He continued their hand game. "I think Sirius will have the hardest time with it, actually." Yes, yes he had thought that.

"Why?"

"Because that's just Sirius. You have to understand that he can't understand why I spend my time in relationships. ' Figures life is best when there's nothing holding you down."

"So I'm holding you down?" Darn. He mentally slapped his forehead, but physically placed his hand at the top.

"No. To him, maybe, but to me…you're setting me free." Aww, now wasn't that the sweetest thing to say.

She laughed. Not the reaction he had expected. Actually he hadn't expected anything at all, but a laughter was definitely not considered as happening. "Honestly, what's that supposed to mean?"

James smiled. How naïve of her to forget how badly he had sought after her in their earlier days. How so very negligent of her to forget how easily he could communicate things with her that he had a hard time communicating with himself. Then he remembered that she was not him and thus had no way of knowing. So he told her.

"Really? But I thought Sirius and Peter and Remus Lupin were all really close to you – "

"And they are, no doubt about us being best mates, but…but there's just, there's something that, well…" he didn't know what to say. He didn't feel discomfort with the Marauders, he actually felt like when he was with them he was wearing his most comfortable pair of shoes. But with her, "See, the difference is that, with you, it's like I'm wearing comfortable pajamas. Pants. Pajama pants. And they are my slippers. So you see, I couldn't live without you nor them. It's just a different comfort. On cold stone, I need my slippers, but before bed, I need my pants!" He blushed. That had not been quite what had been in his mind.

"Err – HUH?" She stopped the hand game and stared at his face. He knew she saw his cheeks flush even by moonlight, he felt they were glowing red.

"No, not like that I meant – I mean that it's different with you and with them. Just like hanging out with Peter is different than hanging out with Sirius which is different than being around Remus. Different company means different sentiments, not necessarily preferring one over the other or resenting one, just simply different. So, although Sirius is my best mate, I equally enjoy Remus' company. And then there's being with you. Which also differs from the rest. Which," he mumbled on, "I'm actually glad because it'd be quite awful if I felt the same around you as I do around Peter."

She eyed him a moment longer. "Okay, that makes sense. I mean, I personally did not feel like going to see my friends this summer even though … we didn't exactly spend a lot of quality time together prior to this summer."

"Entirely your fault, by the way," he chirped in.

"What?" she mocked ignorance. "I have no clue what you are hinting at!"

"Stop lying! You wouldn't give me the light of day, a breath of your time. It was always," and here he took on his bed imitation of a very angry Lily Evans, " "Potter! Leave them alone!" or "Potter, you are a selfish bullying wart" or whatever other insults. It was never, "James, please explain to me your reasoning for cornering your fellow student and freezing him to a chair - "

"As if there was a logical reason!" She smiled all the while trying to keep her eyes angry. It made James realize something.

"You think I'm funny!"

She looked in a panic. "Uh, no, sorry to disappoint, Potter, but I don't."

"Yes! You're smiling now!"

"It's 'cus you look funny?" James, ever self conscious around Lily Evans, quickly lost his smile. "I was kidding, James, you look fine." She brought her head back down to his shoulder.

"Just fine or like fiiiiiiiine fine?" he teased her. Loved teasing her, actually, and it was steadily climbing up his favorite things to do list.

She sighed. "How would you like me to respond to that?" She was looking at him from the corner of her eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. He smiled. She pecked his cheek. He smiled wider.

"That was the perfect reply," he whispered to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders while wrapping his other hand inside of hers.

"I know." _Cocky much?_ He laughed at his private joke. After a few moments of silence which he used to plan out tomorrow's activities concerning the purchasing of needed equipment, Lily spoke again in a sleepy tone. "James?"

"Hmm?"

"What's the ticket for?"

He smiled and kissed her head of hair. "I promise you that you'll find out, but not today, OR tomorrow," he spoke over her almost objections "or any such day until I reveal it to you."

"But James, it an old Hogwarts Express ticket! What good is it now?"

He simply kissed the top of her head again, smiling at his sheer genius.


	13. 13 The Grim Brothers

**A/N** Well I figure this is going to be the almost last chapter. Chapter 14 will be the last...I think. I am still heavily considering making a sequel to this one,although I am not quite sure if I should...oh the dilemma! Once again, I apologize for the lack of ... a little something something in this chapter - I wrote it quickly as I wanted to update it today before work, but I got up a little later than I had planned.

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Nora17. This is Sirius.

**Disclaimer:** Jack said to Willy, "Hey, did you know that Percephone doesn't own any rights to Harry Potter whatsoever?" Willy said to Jack, "Yeah, of course! She's mentioned it 12 times already, so isn't it obvious by now?"

* * *

**Chapter 13 - The Grim Brothers**

Then, a few days later after James had retrieved all of the things he had been supposed to, Sirius Black apparated outside the Potter Estate. Perfection, as of that moment, no longer existed to James anymore. Lily Evans had decided it to be best for everyone if she left the Potters', claiming James and she had spent enough time together for the summer, and that it was now time for him to spend time with his friends.

It was stupid at its best, to James, and he had objected until his face turned purple. He had followed her into her room, watched her pack away all her things, and had argued that eventually Lily would have to face Sirius and Remus and Peter and the entire Hogwarts community including the professors regarding her relationship with him. She had explained it had nothing to do with their relationship, that she wasn't scared or the least bit worried about anyone's reaction (as she never did care) and that she just wanted what was best for her.

And then he had tapped his foot and crossed his arms over his chest. What was best for her? He had been rapidly losing his patience and had demanded an explanation. She had also been purple in the face, by this time, and her eyes had gotten that Gleam of Death back in them, and she had glared at James in a way that said 'I want to smash your face in with my fist.' Yes, perfection had slipped away.

But James, no longer flinching at the Gleam of Death, kept on pushing. Then, and then, Lily exploded. "I'M GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO PETUNIA, YOU GIT! I NEED TO DO THIS, REMEMBER? YOU SAID SO YOURSELF! AND NOW I'M TAKING YOUR ADVICE AND I'M GOING TO SPEND THE LAST WEEKS OF VACATION WITH MY SISTER!"

James' eyes had felt a sudden pull towards the ground. He had never sunk so low in his life. He had, all this time, believed that Lily had been cowering away from what she would inevitably face, yet in all reality, she was stopping her current cowering. She was going to face her agony.

Of course, he had immediately apologized. How rude of him it would have been had he not thought of it.

"You better be," she had replied stubbornly. She continued grabbing her last few things, including a photo of her parents, and had shoved them hastily in her trunk, closing it with a flick of her wand. He saw her, out of the corner of his eyes, picking up the crinkled ticket he had given her and watched as she slipped it into her pocket. That made his heart smile. At least this fight had not been the death of them.

"Would you like help with your trunk?" he had asked as gentleman-like as ever. She had shook her head no, used her wand to levitate her trunk, and had walked quickly past James. He hadn't even had the time to grab her wrist and pull her towards him like he had pictured doing in his mind, pulling her into a warm embrace making her forget about their nasty argument. He was hopeless. Sure, he was great at planning things, but doing things on the whim required a bit more effort. He would have to remember that later.

This is the reason why perfection disapparated from the place where merely minutes later Sirius Black's entire body, along with a loud CRACK! had appeared. James, seeing Sirius, almost forgot the entire ordeal with Lily, and he stood to greet his 'big brother'.

"Prongs!" Sirius had beaten him to it.

"Padfoot!" James greeted heartily back. "You look terrible!" And he did. Not that his face had lost any of its appeal, James was merely commenting on his ripped clothes and the large bruise covering his neck. "What happened to you?"

Sirius smiled and shrugged. "I was trying a few things last night, you know, what with their being a female Marauder and all, and I still have to work on some of our exploding –"

"Sirius!" interrupted an elderly woman's voice. James always knew Sirius cared much about his Mum because of moments like these. He dropped everything, his wand included, ran up past the gates and picked up Gwendolyn Potter in a warm and playful embrace.

"MUUUUUUUUUM!" He kissed her forehead. "I missed you!"

James' Mum slapped Sirius' arm. He rubbed it in mock pain. "What was tha' for?" his brows were creased in very real concern.

"Don't you ever go off without telling me first, dear. I had to pry your location out of James. You must always, always, Sirius Black, tell me first." She was serious. James knew, he had heard the same thing at the age of eleven when he, Sirius and Remus had decided to spend Christmas together. His Mum had actually walked into the Gryffindor common room, had grabbed James' wrist and had tugged on it, ordering him to stand up by pulling (softly) at his ear. Really, the whole entire thing had been more of a show than anything. Then she had given him 'the talk' that he was always to let his parents know where he was and who he was with. You know, boring ol' parent stuff.

"Sorry, Mum. It won't happen again," he said in a sort of "fine then, be that way" voice. Mrs Potter chose to ignore his tone, smiled warmly, and pulled him into another warm hug.

"I'm glad to have both my sons for at least a little while," she smiled and turned on her heel. Both Sirius and James knew that meant to follow her back up to the house. James picked up Sirius' things, Sirius picking up a few things himself, and they made their way up the entryway.

When they walked past the fountain, Sirius chuckled. James laughed as well. Oh how stupid they had been!

James found it particularly disturbing when he walked into his home. The entire front room had been recoloured, turned into a bright green lounge. The same green as the gloves he had worn. "Erm, Ma?"

"Shush, dear. I was trying something new." She looked like she was up to no good. There wasn't a doubt in James' mind that he had picked up his bad habits from her.

James and Sirius spent the most of their first week together catching up on things, like Remus' transformations, Peter's unfortunate lack of a backbone as well as their own lives. Much had changed in Sirius, according to James, and he was anxious to know what had given him that extra…edge. Their second and their week had been spent with Remus and Peter setting up things for the grand event.

They were sitting on their brooms, hovering over the estate, keeping an eye on their master plans to make sure none of them accidentally got set off, and James was waiting for Sirius to tell him what had changed. It appeared Sirius was doing the same.

"What happened this summer, Padfoot?" he asked finally, unable to hold back his curiosity. He hoped Sirius would catch on.

He did. "Things changed, Prongs." James' stomach tightened.

"Such as?" He wasn't being too tell-all. James wondered if he'd be able to tell him everything that had gone on during his summer.

"My uncle's death, seeing what things were like at Remus', stuff like that." There was a pause. James wished he had gone with Sirius to Remus'. Whatever had happened…was beyond him. "You not being there at all this summer, things changed, that's all."

"We're still the same though, aren't we?" James felt like a little boy pleading his best friend to not stop playing together. He didn't care that he looked pathetic, that he sounded desperate because quite frankly, James felt pathetic and he was desperate. His friends were everything to him. He never had realized until now that without them, he would be lost.

Sirius smiled at him. "Yeah, o' course, why wouldn't we?" James wished he knew what he was thinking.

"I dunno," he replied in earnest, "I just thought that, well what with everyone changing and all, I just, I don't want anything to be odd between us."

James felt uncomfortable under Sirius' stare. He seemed to be measuring him, to be taking him in for the first time, really getting to see James as he was, not as strong as he appeared, but really, a fragile piece of glass, much like Remus and himself concerning their own respective weaknesses. "You've changed too."

"Is that good?"

Sirius smiled. "Yeah. Well, it's not bad, since I guess we've all changed." They were dancing around it, dancing around the subject they knew would inevitably spring up in both their minds, but they couldn't bring themselves to address it. James didn't want to bring it up. He wanted to talk about it, yes, but to bring it up would be devastating, disastrous, it would mean – "About Snape, James." Oh, well good. Sirius was bringing it up. James then thought about how he didn't really want to talk about it at all. How the past was past and the future was still waiting.

"It's alright - "

"No it isn't. I know it and you do too. Moony's down right furious about it, well at least he was, I think he's better now. But I just, I need to explain – "

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Sirius. You've already apologized to me and I've accepted, and I take it you've also apologized to Remus and he's accepted. And well, I know Severus won't accept any apology from any of us, so he's sort of not important at the moment."

Sirius directed his gaze back out towards the front of the estate. "Severus. Severus Snape. I don't know if you know what I feel when I see him."

"Oh but I do. I can't stand the bugger. He's slimy, greasy, and he's just one of those people you wish were never born. Really, I am surprised no one else is as hard on him as we are." It was common knowledge. Snape was the freak of freaks, the lowest of low. No one in school liked him. He was skittish, a bit on the pale side – almost vampire like – he loved the dark arts, for some reason excelled at potions, all the weird dodgy things in their world, Snape had a knack for. He gave James the shivers whenever he walked by when they were younger, and since James had become taller and less scrawny than the beady eyed boy, the shivers had transformed into loathing. Now, all James wanted to do was to bring him as most humiliation as ever possible. He deserved it.

"We'll have to leave him alone this year though, mate. Dumbledore made me promise." Sirius trailed off, obviously not pleased about the promise they had all made to their headmaster.

"He means well, Dumbledore. Perhaps we really should leave Snape alone. For now. After Hogwarts, all's fair play." James winked at Sirius who resumed his devilish grin.

Why it was James didn't feel as strongly about what he had said as he knew he would have felt a few months ago, James was sure it was due to the mishap. Seeing Snape's fear, smelling it, feeling the hostility directed towards him in such a great quantity… the unforgettable lack of appreciation… James had saved his life, whether Snape would ever admit it to himself, he'd never know. But magic is as magic was and Snape was thus bound to the Potter line until his debt was repaid. Not that it was anything James thought he really needed; after all, what good could Snape do that James himself couldn't?

"How's Lily?" James felt his mind snap back into his head. Lily. His stomach felt queasy. She hadn't written or made any contact since his father's birthday. She had sent an owl to his mother and in the letter she had written: _Tell James I miss him, and that I'm always there if he feels the need to write._ That had been it. Of course, he had been grateful that she had even thought about him, that she had written even a small line concerning him but, being James, he wanted more. He wanted her to write him that she knew he was sorry and that she had actually thought their argument silly and that no matter what she'd hold on to her ticket.

"I dunno, she's fine, I guess." He didn't feel like talking about Lily. He felt like talking **to** Lily.

"Mum tells me you two were quite the friendly ones towards each other." James merely nodded with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're not joking? You two actually got along well?"

James shrugged. "Well, we sort of decided to let whatever happened at school stay there, you know, so that summer could be enjoyable."

"And was it?"

James' lips gave up their resistance and sprung into a full out smile. "Yeah," he stared off towards the house they had sort of ambushed together, "Yeah, I think it was."

"I still don't understand, Prongs. Lily Evans. She's a bit of a nutter, isn't she?"

"Umm," what was that supposed to mean?

"Sort of like you, I guess. She seems scattered, completely lost yet comfortably so, you know? I dunno. I just thought you'd go for the more level headed, less argumentative, more obedient type."

"You figured wrong."

"I guess I did."

Silence. Why did every conversation carried out between two teenagers always result into some sort of silence? Even if it was a comfortable or at least a not-so awkward silence, it was still silence and the silence was sometimes enough to drive someone mad!

"Are you serious this time? About Lily, I mean?" He seemed a bit … well his voice was off, sort of like it was after… Well he didn't remember when, but James was sure he had heard that voice at one point or another.

"I hope so. We got along well, you know, and she's just amazing, really she is. And I don't know if it'll last long, but I personally hope it lasts until the day I die. And if it does," he carried on not realizing Sirius had been about to say something, "then I hope I die first so that I don't have to endure the loneliness that life would become without her.

Sirius rode and pulled up right beside his best mate, patting him on the back. "Sounds a bit grim, if you'd ask me mate." James shrugged. It had been his honest more private feelings and thoughts. And he had revealed them to the one friend of his he knew would appreciate hearing them.

"I meant every word."

"I know you did. But I will personally never understand you, mate. I just wish you all the best."

It only occurred to them then how good a friend Sirius actually was, how despite their differences, he always found a way to make James feel like less of an idiot, like more of a 'man', like… Sirius was his best friend. Best Friend. Remus would never have been able to make James feel accepted the way Sirius did. He felt bad for not even considering Peter as a candidate, but the truth was truth; Sirius was his brother. Nothing would ever change that.

Then his mind went back to Lily, as it so often did. He couldn't wait until September 1st.


	14. 14 Dog Pile

**A/N:** Well, here's a shortie, as I am about to go to class, work, and then come home to finish the story. It's just got one more chapter now, and as it's already written, it shan't take long for me to post it. Sorry about the lack of updates - this story should have been completed at least a week ago, and I have no good reasons, only pathetic excuses and so I will spare you the burden and just say, "I'm sorry!" I would like to apologize for all of the spelling and other mistakes I've made. I was reading some of my posts and practically wanted to smack myself for every error I found.

And I promise you - Lily will be in the last chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I am merely an obsessed Harry Potter fan! Sorry to disappoint. Sirius, James, Remus and Peter were not a creation of my overly active imagination! sigh

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**Chapter 14 - Dog Pile**

The prank they had planned went off without a hitch. Sirius, James, Remus and Peter had all been on brooms hovering over the Potter estate – Mrs Potter had gone out to a friend's house in order to leave James and his mates their last night before the beginning of their seventh and last year at Hogwarts alone. It was perfect. Almost. It was perfect in a way because of the show; the loud bangs and cracks, the explosion of gold and burgundy lights that streamed far off into the distance, reaching even the windows of The Leaky Cauldron in downtown London. Everyone was then showered with candies of a variety even Honeydukes' couldn't match, as well as some dung bombs amongst other prankly items. The Marauders had made sure that the power of their doings would reach every which place surrounding the London area, letting all the wizards and witches – young and old – know that the Gryffindors infamous pranksters were celebrating their last year.

The night lost its perfection when James had reminded himself of how much better it would have been had Lily accompanied them. Of course, he didn't let it show; not on his face nor in his behaviour. He had been, after all, surrounded by his best friends and that…_that_ was all that mattered.

* * *

September first, nineteen seventy-seven, Peter Pettigrew woke up at six twenty three in the morning after feeling a particular nasty growl in his stomach, which also happened to wake up Remus Lupin and James Potter. Sirius Black, the lump that had passed out nearest to the garden, hardly even stirred. James looked in Remus'es and Peter's directions with a sly smile on his lips. Both nodded in return: it was payback time. 

James swiftly got out of his sleeping back and with unimaginable stealth, moved closer to the still sleeping lump. Extracting his wand from his back pocket whilst simultaneously rearranging the glasses on his face, James motioned for Peter to walk quietly all the way around Sirius into the garden. Remus needn't be told what to do: he approached Sirius just as quietly and mischievously as James from the opposite end.

James crouched low to the ground. The sun hadn't quite made its way past the horizon, but dawn was breaking and he had to make sure that if Sirius would ever open his eyes, then he wouldn't doubt that James' form was, in all actuality, a plant or bush. They were all ready, all in place. James' lips twitched. He so desperately wanted to smile but couldn't. If he smiled, then Sirius might be awakened by the sound his lips would make moving from their current position into their curved ones. It was a silly thought, yes, but anything and everything makes a noise when you are pranking and so you must always prepare for and against the worst. That was one of the laws of playing a good joke.

Moony took out his wand; Peter's was already out. James nodded ever so slightly to the other two, which meant "on the count of three". James held his wand out away from his body, pointed in the direction of Sirius' still form. He moved his wrist once, twice, and on the third coup, soundlessly called the incantation _Rictusempra!_

Of course, no one had actually discussed what spell they would use on their unfortunate victim and so the results were a bit cooky. Sirius' eyes almost shot out of his head as he began laughing uncontrollably, each breath he took in would have him hiccup multi-coloured bubbles, and, suddenly, his legs began flailing all over the place. Ha. What a lovely mix it was.

The other three, upon the dawning of just what they had accomplished, began laughing just as much as Sirius, minus the bubbles and jiggly legs. Sirius' face was pricelessly stuck in sort of…well, his mouth was wide open, but his nose was scrunched up. His lips were tugging farther and farther along the path to his ears, and his eyebrows shot straight up into the middle of his forehead, creating a very unattractive flare of his nostrils, which actually flapped in synch with the boy's laughter. His hair was also flying everywhere; his arms clutching onto his stomach and his legs were now attempting to kick himself in the butt.

After recovering from his stomach-hurting laughter, James sat straight up pondering the scene before his very eyes. He looked as Remus fell on his knees, unable to stay standing as he continued to laugh. Peter's round form had managed to imprison itself in between two rose bushes, and each time he moved he would cry out in pain yet continue laughing at the absurd situation. And there was Sirius, still laughing despite the fact that James had now removed the spells cast upon him. He had collapsed to the ground and kept his face in his hands, butt up in the air wiggling as the laughter shook his entire body.

James laughed a calm laugh no longer caused by the hysterics of the situation in front of him, but at what existed between these four young men. They had all changed – from Remus' extra locks of grey hair, to Peter's attempt at self esteem, to Sirius' change in perspective on life – yet their bond, their friendships had survived adolescence, had survived the tumulus hormonal roller coasters, the jealousies that were never really spoken of but rather merely acknowledge by dumping the girl Peter had a crush on or embarrassing Sirius in front of the entire class for getting the top mark on the test. Yes, despite their different life paths, these four lives that had crossed each other seven years ago today and tomorrow, had managed to parallel the other, growing apart yet together, reinforcing what was so real, so precious, so crucial in times such as these.

Amidst his thoughts, James did not notice the laughter had subsided and that each other young man, in turn, reflected upon the eventful morning. It was Sirius who made the noise first, sighing loudly and quickly saying in his most menacing tone, "You'll all pay for tha' one, you will."

Peter, surprisingly, extracted himself from the rose bushes (not without a few groans) and replied cockily, "As if you could ever pull a stunt as good as that!" Remus high-fived the bubbly blond boy, smiling his approval at the retort.

"You probably couldn't even manage to sneak up on us even if we'd been put to sleep by a sleeping draught!" Remus chided in.

"Unless, of course, you ask for my help," James winked in Sirius' direction, who simply rolled his eyebrows at him.

"I'm sorry to announce this to you, mates, but I **am** the best and I will come up with sumthin' much better than a cleaning spell or a wobbly legs hex or a laughing spell. Without," he added loudly, "any help at all!"

James punched him in the arm. "You wish." And thus began the dog pile (Sirius fighting 'til the death, of course) where Peter held Sirius' arms behind him while James transfigured a rose into a blow up hammer and handed it to Remus who fell across Sirius' chest whilst hitting his shoulders with the hammer. James then jumped on the Sirius' other side, with a hammer of his own, hitting Peter, who then decided to jump James in attempts to seize the bright yellow hammer.

The fighting continued until seven thirty eight when Mrs Potter stuck her head out of the window and screamed "BOOOOYSSSS! BREAKFAST!"

Seventeen and eighteen year old boys did not need to be called in twice for breakfast. They had, after all, been awakened because of someone's hunger!

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**A/N: **Please feel free to review! 

And a big thank you to all of you who do. You're all excellent and I really appreciate your feedback!


	15. 15 Ticket '70

**A/N:** Congrats everyone! You've made it to the end of my story. Yes, yessir and yesma'am, it's finally over. It would have been up a bit earlier however - stupid Videotron ...grrr! Cut out on us again. Anyway, long story short, I really hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I loved writing it. To all those who have reviewed, you guys...you really and I mean really pushed me to update. Your feedback is extremely valuable to me, and I want you all to know that I have appriciated it more than I had ever imagined.

**Disclaimer:** James, the platform, his friends, Lily...they are all JK Rowling's. What belongs to me? The joy I get when I make up stories about them.

Please enjoy!

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**Chapter 15 - Ticket '70**

Ah yes, the morning of September the first of seventy seven was a very abnormal Thursday. Between the very few occurring silences that were filled with clicks of tongues or rustling of a particular person's hair, there was so much noise filling the Potter Manor that one would think there was actually a family of seventeen living in there. Too bad those people would be thought of as fools.

Eight o'clock and nine o'clock zoomed by. From about nine-thirty on, James helped his mother clean up the enormous mess they had all caused during a quick food fight. She had given the house elves the task of actually cleaning up the food and insisted James endure the punishment of physically having to clean the dishes. It had always been his most heavily disliked chore as a child, and Gwendolyn knew that if she ever wanted to annoy James, all she had to do was ask him to do the dishes.

Well, it worked. James was thoroughly annoyed by the time Gwendolyn had dropped three plates, two knives and fourteen cups (how did they manage to use fourteen cups? They were only five for goodness' sakes!) back into his water on the claim that they weren't "completely clean". James turned to his mother, nostrils flaring and all.

"If you aren't happy, mother, why don't you wash and I'll dry?" He was almost stomping his foot.

"No. I enjoy watching you clean, it's just that you don't do it well enough." She had the look of an innocent three year old that had just gotten scolded for dipping her cookies in milk.

James couldn't stay mad at his mother for long. Not anymore, in any case, and so he turned around, put his gloves back over his hands and against began washing the dishes. The green gloves…the same lime green gloves he had worn in the toilet not too long ago with Lily…

"You miss Lily, don't you son?" A lock of white hair had fallen from behind her ears and she ignored it as she continued to dry the fifth cup he had placed gently back into the rinsing sink.

"Hmm," was his reply. What else was he supposed to say? That he couldn't stand being at home without her? That he felt as though he was walking a tight rope whenever she left his side? Of course he couldn't say that! What would his mother think of him? What would Sirius think of him? What would he think of himself?

Most of all, how would Lily react?

"It's okay, James, we can talk about it. I miss her too. Very much, actually, and she misses us as well." She placed another cup on the counter and picked up the ninth from the sink.

"How do you figure?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow at her while scratching away some sauce that was trying desperately to stain their white dishes.

"She writes to me." The plate slipped from his hand and splashed him in the face as it landed in the water.

How embarrassing. His glasses were rendered useless by the soap duds, his shirt was completely drenched, and the water on the counter was now soaking into his pants. No, no, no, this was not very good at all.

Mrs Potter suppressed a giggle. "Oh James! Such carelessness whenever I speak of Lily. What is it now? Jealousy that she's written to me and not you? Perhaps anger?"

James' eyes grew wide. What was she playing at anyway? Did she want to make him mad? Of course she did! She was his mother! No, no she definitely did not want to anger him, she knew how he got when he became angered. So then, what was it? He faced her, looking at her through white and rainbow coloured soap bubbles. "Why do you say that?"

Mrs Potter stood taller and finally brought the lock of hair that had fallen again behind her ear. "James, oh James my good, sweet, devoted son," she turned back to her dishes. "When will you ever learn?"

He concluded, then, that perhaps he had gotten her playfulness and mischievous personality, but he most certainly did not possess that oddball gene she so prominently showed. Wiping the soap from his glasses, James resumed his task. "Wha' did she say?"

"Oh, you know, same ol' same ol' James. Talking about this and that, Petunia, her friends, how she went shopping and bought –"

"Let me refine my question a bit – did she say anything about me?" He was desperate. They had argued, he had owled her once to apologize again and invite her to the largest prank ever played. She hadn't replied and James figured that was because she was angry with him.

Mrs Potter smiled. "No, not really. She asks how you are and things of tha' nature, but…not really obsessive abou' it, you know? Although, she does oft mention a certain ticket?" James smiled cheekily.

"If you're trying to get it ou' of me, mother, I must warn you immediately of your certain failure. But you'll maybe find out – if, that is, Lily will let you in on it later."

Mrs Potter 'hmmphed' and continued drying.

And then, once all the dishes were put away nicely (Sirius' job), James, Remus, Peter and Sirius were all standing, with trunks, at platform 9 and three quarters. James actually couldn't remember what he did during the time between the dishes and the moment he saw the train before him. It was awkward, as though no time had gone by, yet he knew that some had. Some must have! He flirted with the possibility of it being Sirius' idea of pay back, but when Sirius looked just as confounded as he did, along with Remus and Peter, James knew that it had more or less been the effect of being a seventh year student embarking on this journey for one. Last. Time.

"'Never realised how shiny she was," piped Peter in a tone that was somewhere between completely ecstatic and beyond depressed.

"She is beautiful," echoed Sirius who, for once, was taking Peter's lead.

"And big," added Remus, eyes wide with sorrow and fear.

They all waited for James to say something, to follow the trend, but he didn't – couldn't. He didn't know what to say. Yes, the train sitting there quietly brought some sort of pain within him, but that pain was nothing compared to the nagging at his chest. He was looking for something – someone – else, someone he hadn't seen in far too long.

Sirius cleared his throat. James, annoyed, tried to think of something clever to say. Finally, he managed, "And she's all ours for one last time."

Satisfied with this, the three other Marauders let their eyes fall back over the crowds in front of them. There were many new first years (they got shorter every year!) and just as many parents seeing them off. There were a few other students from this term's second years that James recognized, as well as a few more third, fourth and fifth years. But he didn't really care about any of them right now. He just wanted to see Lily.

"Let's go get ourselves a seat. See you at Christmas, Mum," Sirius turned around and kissed Gwendolyn on the forehead, picking her up and squeezing her as lightly and tightly as he could all at once. Remus almost did the same, although much more kindly and diplomatically. Still, he addressed her as "Mum," as basically anyone who met Mrs Potter did.

Peter smiled weirdly at her, almost as if he realised for the first time just what she looked like. "Your hair is almost purple it's so white, Mumma, you better watch it – might give us some ideas for some lovely jokes –"

"Don't I catch even one of you trying to think about changing my hair colour. That, James will most certainly be glad to inform you, is one of the greatest mistakes a young prankster can think of doing!" And with a quick hug and kiss on either cheeks, Mrs Potter turned to her son – the only one who had her cheeks, her forehead, and her elbows.

"Bye Mum," James said as he dropped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. He kissed the top of her head and brought his cheeks to that spot. They hugged for a wee bit more, and when she was about to pull away, James whispered in her ear, "Don't hesitate to call on me, okay? I'll be there faster than you can say –"

"Bullocks, James. But I appreciate it. Finally, you're starting to show that sweet gentleman side of you I so struggled to program into you!" She laughed quietly to herself as he stared at her. His mom had just complimented him and insulted him in one breath. She was good!

Soon as she had left, James turned round and resumed his search for the red haired girl he knew was around here somewhere. She was, after all, Head Girl, which meant she had the responsibilities of ensuring everyone got on the train without much effort. James smiled to himself. He was made Head Boy. Of course, he didn't place much attention to it now – he had even forgotten to mention it to his best friends. Why? Well, let's just suffice it to say; he had other people on his mind.

There. He saw her. She was standing in the middle of a group of a handful of girls James recognized as seventh year Gryffindors, along with one or two Ravenclaws, Three Hufflepuffs, and four Slytherins. They were a large group, some were brighter than others, some more physically attractive…James had even dated one of them a couple of years ago for almost a year. But none of them James really saw. He just saw Lily concentrating on what one of the Slytherin girls was saying while trying to discreetly bring her trunk into the train. This was his time now.

Straightening his glasses and mentally reprimanding his stomach and hands for doing flips and getting sweaty (respectively), James walked his way purposefully towards the girl he hadn't seen in only a few weeks.

"Hi there," he said cheerfully as he walked up behind her. The Slytherin girl (who had finished speaking by now) rolled her eyes and turned to the girl next to her.

Lily almost smiled. That almost made him laugh. Almost. "Hi," she said meekly, meeting his gaze with intent in her eyes. "I was hoping that perhaps you can help me with something," she continued, letting go of her trunk.

"Sure. Fire away!" he thrust his left hand in his pocket and scratched a spot on his arm that didn't itch. He had worked hard on trying not to let his hands reach his hair whenever he got nervous and his hard training, apparently, paid off!

Lily looked relieved. "Alright, you see, I got this letter in the mail and it said that I was supposed to be here and all, and I got through to the platform but, I still don't know why I need this ticket!" She took it out. A crinkled yellow ticket, the ink slowly fading away, yet you could still see 'September 1st, 1970 11:00am sharp' written in bold letters somewhere in the centre.

James reached out. "Let me see that," he said. She handed it over to him, curiously and expectedly. "Hmm, yes, well it appears to be telling you that you need to be on the train at eleven sharp. That's in about …. eight minutes and twenty odd seconds."

Lily raised her eyebrow. He was loving this. "Well, I figured that out! But I mean, why? Why this ticket?"

"What about your ticket, Lily?" asked a girl from Ravenclaw.

"Lily? Ah, Lily, my name's James, James Potter," he informed her as he would a stranger, offering her his hand.

Reluctantly, Lily played along (to his relief). "Hullo James Potter, I'm Lily Evans." James could hear voices trailing off as people nudged each other to look at the scene that was unfolding before their very eyes.

"It's an honour to meet you, Lily Evans," he replied with utmost sincerity meanwhile his stomach was still doing back flips. His plan was actually working! Good thing Lily was smart enough to not only catch on but also play along!

"Likewise," she said dubiously.

"Would you like me to introduce you to my friends?" He pointed his head towards the blond chubby boy whose eyes were wide in shock and whose mouth almost hit the gravel, standing beside the brown sandy haired boy whose tired eyes sparkled with interest, who was beside the a dark haired boy who looked as though his dog had returned from the forest with a sick bird clinging onto its tail.

Lily laughed. "Umm, perhaps later. Can we get back to the ticket –"

"FIVE MINUTES EV'RYONE! FIVE MINUTES!"

"Lily, let's go!" Called one girl. Lily turned around and shot her a look that James was sort of thankful he didn't get to see.

"NO. You all go along, I'll be right behind you."

The girls eyed James with …well something in their eyes, something that James didn't even notice as he was too busy getting lost in Lily's green orbs.

"Now, as I was saying, the ticket, kind sir. Why would someone tell me to carry it around with me at all times?"

The platform was emptying itself into the train, parents the only ones really remaining behind, as well as perhaps three other boys, a few random students, and, of course, Lily and himself. He figured it would be the perfect time to finally reveal it. He just felt kind of sad that she'd be disappointed. She probably expected much more than what he had actually planned, but, she had said herself, that she preferred attempts rather than full fledged happenstances. He was dwelling on this, depending on this more than he felt comfortable to.

"Well, actually, Miss Lily, I wonder if you've noticed the date on your ticket."

"September the first, yes, of course I noticed the date," her voice was quick, abrupt, and almost held a trace of disbelief. After all, it wasn't every day that someone asked her such a simple question that half accused her of not being perceptive.

"Yes, but, that's not it –"

"Nineteen Seventy. Yes, September the first, nineteen seventy. Now, what about this date?"

James smiled a private smile that was intended only for himself, though Lily reddened at it. "Well, I remember that day – not every single detail of it – but I do remember that, on that day, I was standing," he turned around, "over there," he pointed to the spot where his mother had seen him off onto the train and turned to face Lily once more, "and I was about to get on this train for the first time. Ever. And, you know, I was a bit weary abou' it, I mean, I was nervous –"

"THREE MINUTES PEOPLE! THREE MINUTES!"

"as I think everyone else around me was." Beat. "And, what about you?"

Lily thought a bit. "Well, I got on the train immediately, actually. My parents stood right over there," she pointed in the opposite direction James had, "and they kept waving at me." Her eyes grew softer, yet she still held that expecting look as well.

"Hmm, that's interesting."

"Wha is?"

"Well, we were standing in opposite places. You were at the front of the train, I was somewhere near the back."

"So?" she raised her eyebrow at him again.

"Well, isn't that sort of how we spent the rest of our years? You in one place, me in a completely different one." He wasn't only talking physically, but also mentally, emotionally…He had been immature, she had been mature; he had had the most obvious crush on her, she had resented him with a passion; he was always getting a detention, she was soon enough giving detentions. They were opposites. She was a girl, he was a boy.

Seeing the look on Lily's face, James knew she had caught on to the symbolism. How very unlike him, he thought, to incorporate symbolism in his every day speech.

"TWO MINUTES PEOPLE! TWOOOO MINUTES!"

"I see." Her eyes went wide for a brief moment. He wondered what it meant. Probably something along the lines of 'we have to get back on that train!'

"This ticket," he chuckled as her lips parted into the widest grin he'd ever seen, "is somewhat of…how can I put this, a sort of promise, I guess." He extracted his wand from his butt pocket and tapped the piece of parchment thrice, adding a new date underneath the old one. "This ticket marked the beginning of my life as a true wizard – it marked the first time I was heading to Hogwarts! And now, now it marks something completely different but just as – more important I think. It marks the beginning of a life at your side instead of over there," he pointed again to the spot he had stood in seven years' prior, "and you there," he pointed over to the spot she had moments before.

"James –"

"ONE MINUTE! HURRY IT UP, PEOPLE, YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE BLOODY TRAIN!"

James merely smiled. "So you see, Lily, it's really important that you hold on to this ticket. Crucial to the survival of what we have – what I want to share with you. Not that I'm saying that if you lose it I won't be beside you, but rather, if you lose sight of what it signifies…"

He was cut off by her pouncing on him, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into the tightest most strongest clutches he had ever experienced. It felt good, though, to have the air squeezed out of his lungs by Lily Evans' hug. He grinned foolishly now, forgetting that a few parents were now staring at him and the red head in his arms, ignoring the fact that they had probably heard everything he had said to her.

"James, I – I never expected this from you!" her grip didn't relent. Her voice was giddy – something he wasn't used to hearing from Lily Evans. Especially not in her school robes.

"Neither did I," he answered quite honestly. He hadn't even had to plan out what the ticket meant – that part had come on its own. No, the most difficult part of this entire operation was pulling it off without sounding too corny. He hoped he had done it well enough for her.

She laughed as she finally pulled away. He wrapped his arms around her waist and let his hands clasp together resting in her lower back. She brought her hands up to his face and he smiled – grinned – even more foolishly than before. "I promise James that I will never let it go. Never ever ever ever ever," she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Good. All that and fifteen seconds to spare!" he said as he took her hand and flicked his wand towards her trunk, levitating it through a door.

"TEN SECONDS PEOPLE! COME ON! GET ON THE BLOODY TRAIN ALREADY!"

James levitated his own trunk into the train, holding Lily's hand, completely oblivious to the fact that no one was left on the platform – not even his trusted three – except for the unfamiliar faces of countless first and second year parents.

As they stepped up onto the train, Lily ran her hand down James' arm and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You know, James Potter, you have an incredible sense of time, an impeccable ease with which you handle very nerve-wracking situations, an unimpeachable sense of confidence and –"

"I have the best smile in the world?" He teased.

"Uh, no. That's not quite what I was going to say."

"I'm handsome?"

"Nope. Not that either."

James pursed his lips to the side as he thought. "I'm obtrusive handsome and romantic?"

Lily shook her head. He loved the look on her face. "No, no, that's not quite what I was thinking."

"Then what?" he asked as he held on to support her while the jerk of the train starting off threatened to knock them off their feet.

"I was going to say that, your sweaty hands are actually your most attractive trait at this present moment."

James blushed as he opened the door to the Prefect's compartment. He cursed his hands for allowing sweat to break through the pore barrier. "Why's that?"

"It's just a breath of fresh air, that's all," she walked into the compartment holding on to his hands.

Well, James chose to not ponder too hard on what she had just said, for he was now confronted with twenty four pairs of eyes opened wide in astonishment. "Erm – Hullo. I'm ahh, err – I'm James Potter, err, the new Head Boy…" he trailed off as knots turned and churned his stomach.

The look on everyone's face – Remus included – told James that yes, this year would be, by far, one of the most interesting years of his short life.

* * *

**A/N:**So this is it, guys! I hope you loved it, and I'm super sorry if this was too sweet or corny or whatever, fluff I believe we call it. Anyway, I'm super sad to have to say goodbye to James and Lily...awww

I am flirting excessively with the idea of continuing on, I just need to know if it's worth it - that is, will you be interested in reading more from this story or would you rather read other things? Please let me know so that I can develop the idea in my head further.

Ciao for now!

Yours truly,

Percephone


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